Translated by Jesús Ronquillo / Circuito Frontera
You who often remain naked and ill-fed; undressed, underdressed and barefooted.
Click here for the original version in spanish
Your decaying clothes are evidence of the lack of care to which you are constantly exposed.
Even if you say nothing, you are a mute witness to all the omissions that are made against you and under your name.
Your longevity is also synonymous with resilience. For, without being in a war zone, you see how much of your armor is falling apart. You are lacking in functional framework
But “you don’t break,” as the saying goes.
It is not uncommon to walk among your arteries, your asphalt skin and see your scars or how your skin falls off; we pass over the damaged pavement and you don’t say a word.
You only see how drivers try to “dodge” the holes that have formed on you to avoid damaging their vehicles.
This is how you cry, Ciudad Juárez. You, who take in thousands of migrants in your space, thousands of compatriots and foreigners because of your humanitarian quality.
Your territory is large and so is your population, you represent the largest municipality in the state, but justice has not been done to you, because as the years go by and the rulers change, you see how the resources you generate escape to the capital, as if it were a handkerchief blown away by the wind.
Your borderland-born and adopted children only complain, but none of them have started a rebellion movement to demand what you deserve.
Everything is politics they say… but even punks and rebels do politics. An act of rebellion against the system is also politics, so you need more fighting sons.
Although you used to be known as a land of the fierce, the barbarians of the north, only the name remained, because sadly you see how they became a people of squatters, while you continue to lose part of your body without being healed.
