Would Jane Eyre Come to the Information Desk? Jane Eyre, por favor acercarse al mostrador

Would Jane Eyre Come to the Information Desk?

Would Jane Eyre come to the Information Desk?
The speaker voice at Heathrow Airport said.
There was I minding my own business.
And when she came near, she was shouting:
My name is Bertha; my name is not Jane Eyre
I come from Kingston, Jamaica. Look here.
Well, they’d placed handcuffs on her.
Ras! She shook her black hair and stamped
Her feet in anger: I have as much soul as you,
She was shouting to the immigration officer,
And full as much heart. My name is Bertha!
And the man was waving a form in her face
Saying sign here, sign here, Jane Eyre, sign here.
Stop shouting, dear, or you’ll end up in Holding.
And Bertha was dignity – quality – know what I’m saying?
I am no bird and no net ensnares me
I am a free human being with an independent will,
She say in a voice come down from century.
Eh eh – for a minute I thought I was dreaming.
But wait! Just as suddenly as she appear
She disappear: pulled across the floor, kicking, screaming.
And a long queue instantly forming
Like a giant question across Terminal Four
And people saying the same thing. Appalling!
The way they treat that woman. Poor ting.
Who was she? Who was Jane Eyre? Who was Bertha?
And the Hinformation people saying over and over,
We are not at liberty to say anything.
We are NOT at liberty! Know what I’m saying?
And it’s ME they accusing of paranoia! Ting ting!
 

Jane Eyre, por favor acercarse al mostrador

Jane Eyre, por favor acercarse al mostrador
dijeron en el aeropuerto de Heathrow por el altavoz.
Ahí yo estaba ocupándome de lo mío.
Y cuando ella se acercó, estaba gritando:
Yo me llamo Bertha; no me llamo Jane Eyre
Yo soy de Kingston, Jamaica. Fíjese.
Y bueno, la habían esposado.
¡Ras! Revoleó el pelo negro y pataleó
contra el piso enojada: Tengo tanta alma como tú,
le gritaba al empleado de Migraciones,
¡y tanto corazón! ¡Yo me llamo Bertha!
Y el hombre le agitaba un formulario en la cara
diciendo firme acá, firme acá, Jane Eyre, firme acá.
Deje de gritar, señorita, o va a acabar detenida.
Y Bertha era dignidad, calidad, ¿ya tú sabe’?
No soy ningún pájaro y ninguna red me atrapa,
soy un ser humano libre con voluntad propia.
Dice en una voz que ha llega’o de los milenio’.
Ey ey, por un minuto pensé que estaba soñando.
¡Pero momento! Así de rápi’o como ella aparece
ella desaparece: arrastrá’a por el piso, pateando, gritando.
Y al instante se fue formando una larga fila
como una pregunta enorme por la Terminal Cuatro
y toda la gente decía lo mismo. ¡Un desastre!
Cómo tratan a esa mujer. Pobre titi.
¿Quién era? ¿Quién era Jane Eyre? ¿Quién era Bertha?
Y la gente del moHtrador decía una y otra vez,
No tenemos la libertad de confirmar nada.
¡Que NO tenemos la libertad! ¿ya tú sabe’?
¡Y a MÍ me ‘tan acusando ello’ de paranoia! ¡Ti ti!
 

Translated by Paula Galindez as part of the PTC’s Queer Digital Residency.

Poems from BANTAM by Jackie Kay. Copyright © 2017, Jackie Kay. All rights reserved.

Original Poem by

Jackie Kay

Translated by

Paula Galindez Language

English

Country

United Kingdom