Tráigame sus pobres, su cansado, sus masas amontonadas anhelando respirar libremente…
Well, that’s the way that Altavista’s Babel Fish translates Emma Lazarus’s “The New Colossus“ to Spanish. I’d have to ask my Spanish friends if that’s anything close to the actual translation, but it serves its purpose for now.
I got in a discussion with my 80-year-old cousin this weekend about a national language. Vinnie is a self-proclaimed Republican, though he’s a registered Democrat where he lives so that he can vote in the primaries. He and his wife noted (strangely) that the two politicians they most abhor are Hillary Clinton and George W. Bush. Both, by their accounts, are idiots. While I only half agree with that statement, I was swept in the undertow of a political conversation, brought about by a veritable ocean of Scotch and Plum Rum Cordial (both home-made and delicious).
And while Vinnie continued to state that he refused to ruin an otherwise perfect weekend with a political debate, he also continued to pursue the conversation; the heart of which was the adoption of a national language.
