For Roberto, on turning seventy?

Morejon, Nancy ; Clark, David Draper

I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE IT, that this man--this poet who honors our language with his first and last names; this man of reflection who drinks from the same cup as workingmen and -women because, one fine day, he came to know the essential labor of such essential men and women; this native Cuban from La Vibora; this wise and courageous professor; this close friend, whose name I heard for the first time in 1961 at a book fair while walking on the capitol grounds and whose image I saw, also for the first time, seated in a stuffed armchair in a university setting in 1962; this tropical Quixote summoned by the civic fire of Ruben Martinez Villena and the eternal flame of Jose Marti this ineffable colleague who reigns over the Casa de las Americas (that is, everyone's Casa) and who, above all, reigns over the heart of Adelaida de Juan; this bard who listens to recordings by Benny More and transports us to the beauty of a "Cubanness" as original as it is hidden among the giant leaves of the jaguey trees of Zapata Street; this home-loving father of El Vedado, with his large chair and everyday palace at his back--turns seventy today. Who could have told me? Who could have believed it?

It is true that none of you could resist even a single solemn word about Roberto's exemplary cultural work or a brief tribute as a more-than-deserved eulogy for all his virtues. For me, however, I could not render such an homage. Clearly, I am not going to tell stories about Roberto Fernandez Retamar--least of all here, where it is certainly not necessary. I just want to be a part of the happiness that these seventy years represent, not only for me and his huge family, found in every corner of Che and Haydee's Latin America, but for each one of the employees of this Casa of ours. Today, we are all Roberto's students.

I would like to close by paraphrasing, as one might expect, Fernandez Retamar's own verses.

 Roberto, your life has been a beautiful one, and I assure you that
 within the ebb and flow of my life's fortunes and those of many
 others like me, lies someone who is you. We can no longer be
 who we once were after having known you and having loved
 you so much. Congratulations, thank you, and good luck in life.

 Havana

Words delivered at the Casa de las Americas in Havana, Cuba, on the occasion of the seventieth birthday of Roberto Fernandez Retamar, June 8, 2000. Translation from the Spanish by David Draper Clark. First publication in English.

NANCY MOREJON is director of the Center for Caribbean Studies at the Casa de las Americas in Havana, a member of the Academia Cubana de la Lengua, and an advisor for the Teatro Nacional de Cuba. One of the foremost Cuban writers and intellectuals of her generation, her publications include twelve collections of poetry, three monographs, a dramatic work, and four critical studies of Cuban history and literature. In 2001, she won Cuba's Premio de la Critica for her verse collection La quinta de los molinos.