In English, I’m a fairly good writer.
Or, colloquially, “I write good.”
But if you assign me an essay in Spanish,
My skills do not shine brighter.
What can I say, that can be written
In the words of a five year old?
“Mi madre es bonita. Mi madre es loca.”
But, “My mother adopted a kitten?”
Maybe I can fudge the facts:
“Mi madre tiene gatos pequeños.”
It’s technically true, thought not quite the same,
But I know the word for “cats.”
Also, the transitions! It’s a stylistic sin.
Of this, I am well aware.
Mother, forgive me, I know you would weep,
But I only know “también.”
From my logic professor, I ask forgiveness.
I know my argument isn’t sound.
“Me gusta” this, “no me gusta” that;
I’ll have proof when I actually mean business.
To my English professor: I am deeply sorry
That I don’t elaborate on my thoughts.
“La película es buena,” is all I say.
Explaining why is just too much worry.
To my history professor, I have apologized
For my unclear use of tenses.
In my essays, the past and present are one.
My timeline is worth being criticized.
My essays in Spanish are a clichéd love scene:
“If only I had the words to say…”
But I have two more courses in Spanish to take,
Maybe one day I can say all I mean.