Time passes as slowly
as all the centuries of history,
but love letters are perfected,
and students receive glowing grades.
When the president hears reports
of my success as a teacher, he invites me
to write an elegant poem for a centennial celebration
in honor of Simón Bolívar, courageous liberator
of most of the Américas.
Second chances are rare blessings,
and I know that if I fail, I might end up
teaching grammar forever, so I make
an honest effort to praise liberty,
wrapping my rhymes and rhythms
in a veil of hope as peaceful
as blue sky
and blue sea.