Literary Arts: Cuban Poet in Key West, Juana Borrero (1896)
- Nov 9
- 9 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
Juana Borrero Pierra (1877–1896) was a remarkable Cuban poet and painter whose tragically short life beautifully encapsulated the worlds of Havana's literary elite and Key West's burgeoning exile community. From a family steeped in writing and patriotism, Juana was a true prodigy. She began publishing poetry at the tender age of ten and was already studying at Havana's prestigious San Alejandro Academy of Fine Arts.
Her upbringing was one of privilege and intellect. Her father, a physician, was also a poet, and her mother as well had poetic talent. Her father had even fought for Cuban independence in the "Ten Years' War" against Spain from 1868 to 1878. Their Havana home was a vibrant hub, frequently hosting intellectuals, writers, artists, and politicians, a testament to their prominent standing.
However, the winds of change brought turmoil. In 1895, Cuba's War of Independence reignited, forcing Juana and her family to flee their homeland for the shores of Key West. They arrived by steamship on January 18, 1896, initially taking residence at the Duval Hotel. After a week, they relocated to an apartment situated above the Day, Allen & Company furniture store on Simonton Street. In a poignant letter to Carlos Pio, Juana described their new surroundings with raw emotion: "...a kind of spacious and cold attic, whose oblique roof seems to oppress and suffocate me…From here, I see stars trembling like tears." She penned numerous letters to him, her hope for his presence in Key West palpable.
Key West at this time was a melting pot of Cuban culture. The ongoing unrest in Cuba, coupled with the booming cigar industry – largely owned and operated by Cubans – had drawn a significant Cuban population to the island. Surrounded by exiled intellectuals and revolutionaries, Juana found inspiration for her deeply moving poem, “Los Proscriptos” (“The Exiles”). This haunting reflection on her final night in Cuba and the profound sorrow of displacement powerfully captures the emotional weight of exile. The poem's themes resonate beyond her own experience, mirroring the feelings of Cuban immigrants throughout the 20th century and beyond. While the impetus for Juana's exile was the oppressive monarchy and oligarchs of Spain, for subsequent generations of Cubans, communism became the driving force behind their departure.
Her poem is below in English and Spanish:
The Exiles
When the distant silhouette vanished into the mists of the far reaches, the beloved homeland disappeared beyond the horizon, and night descended upon the plain of the murmuring sea. Alas! And upon our souls also descended the shadow, and the sadness of absence unfurled its cold fog! From the quarterdeck, beneath the gigantic canopy of infinity studded with shimmering stars, I gazed for a long time at the distant line that separates the sea from space. And all the longings overwhelmed me, and all the tears rose to my eyes, thinking of the beloved land that fled behind me, shrouded in the shadows of night. Oh! To say goodbye to home, to the dearest affections of the soul, to the homeland that suffers and struggles, is truly very sad! And this intimate tearing of our hearts pains us even more because we reproach ourselves for the involuntary exile, because it seems to us an ingratitude toward our homeland to abandon it in its misfortune!
Face the unknown, the strange land, the shadow, the sad night of the outlaws, the nostalgia...
Behind us lies the beloved land where we learned to venerate an ideal of glorious redemption, the brothers who fight, the friends who love us. And amidst the uncertainty of the impenetrable future, and the desolate conviction of the definitive collapse of the past, the soul of the outcast succumbs, overwhelmed by the burden of sorrows, and the stars of dreams fade in his spirit.
Between two infinities of sorrow, between two abysses of shadow, between two horizons of darkness, the perilous march towards the unknown and strange region begins... Behind us, ideals are left behind, sweet hopes that have died, credulous illusions of happiness.
Pain unfolds its horizon of tears before our eyes, and the frost of annihilating nostalgia descends upon our souls.
(Key West Magazine, Vol. II, April 30, 1898, No.20, p.9.)
Los Proscriptos
Cuando la silueta distante se desvaneció en la bruma de las lejanías, la patria amada desapareció tras el horizonte, y la noche descendió sobre la planicie del mar rumoroso. Ay! y también sobre las almas bajó la sombra y desplegó su fría niebla la tristeza de la ausencia! Desde la toldilla, bajo el palio gigantesco del infinito tachonado de estrellas trémulas, estuve largo rato con la mirada fija en la línea remota que separa el mar del espacio. Y todas las nostalgias me abrumaron, y subieron a mis ojos todas las lágrimas, pensando en la tierra querida que a mi espalda huía envuelta en las sombras nocturnas. ¡Oh! decir adiós al hogar, a los afectos más caros del alma, a la patria que sufre y lucha, es ciertamente bien triste! Y este desgarramiento íntimo de nuestro corazón nos duele más aún porque nos reprochamos la expatriación involuntaria, porque nos parece una ingratitud para con la patria abandonarla en la desgracia!
Enfrente lo desconocido, la tierra extraña, la sombra, la triste noche de los proscriptos, la nostalgia...
Detrás, el suelo adorado donde aprendimos a venerar un ideal de redención gloriosa, los hermanos que combaten, los amigos que nos aman. Y entre la incertidumbre del porvenir impenetrable, y la desoladora convicción del hundimiento definitivo del pasado, el alma del proscripto sucumbe abrumada por el fardo de las pesadumbres, y se van apagando en el espíritu los astros del ensueño.
Entre dos infinitos de pesar, entre dos abismos de sombra, entre dos horizontes de tinieblas se emprende la marcha azarosa hacía la región desconocida y extraña... A nuestra espalda se van quedando los ideales, las dulces esperanzas muertas, las crédulas ilusiones de dicha.
A nuestros ojos despliega el dolor su horizonte de lágrimas, y sobre las almas desciende la escarcha de las nostalgias aniquiladoras.
(Revista de Cayo Hueso, Vol. II, Abril 30 de 1898, Núm.20, p.9.)
Upon her arrival in Key West, Juana Borrero’s health took a swift and concerning turn. She began experiencing illness, accompanied by persistent back pain. The stark reality of her surroundings, a stark contrast to the vibrant life she’d known, weighed heavily on her. She confided in Carlos Pio, describing the oppressive atmosphere: "You can barely see two blocks (from the apartment). Not a long distance. The trees pitch in the night like pensive and gloomy spirits. Sometimes in the evenings I go for a walk over the graves. Her perhaps I will sleep too." These were not mere observations, but prophetic lines, hinting at the darkness that would soon descend.
Despite her personal struggles, Juana’s time in Key West was also marked by connection and activism. She formed a friendship with a young nun at the Convent of Mary Immaculate, finding solace and perhaps a sense of community. Simultaneously, her family became deeply involved in supporting the Cuban independence movement. They tirelessly raised funds for the Cuban fighters, with her father delivering impassioned speeches at the San Carlos. The Borrero women, too, contributed their skills, sewing much-needed clothing for the cause.
Juana’s artistic spirit, however, continued to burn brightly. While in Key West, she created several paintings. Sadly, a Madonna she painted for the church has never been located. Fortunately, one of her powerful works, depicting three Key West children of African descent, has survived. She titled this masterpiece “Pilluelos,” meaning “urchins.” In an era when featuring Black subjects was rare, this painting was groundbreaking and is considered her finest work. It now resides in a Cuban museum, lauded as “one of the most notable pieces made during the 19th century.”
Tragically, Juana's health continued to deteriorate. Within a month of her arrival, she was diagnosed with typhoid fever, leaving her severely weakened and struggling to function. Her pleas to Carlos to visit her from Cuba went unanswered, his inability to travel a source of deep sorrow. In her final letter to him, her anguish poured out: “But how my soul suffers! Horrific medicines, quinine, injections, caustics, icy baths, and countless exasperating indignities that I have to accept in order to be cured.”
Realizing her end was near, Juana, with her last reserves of strength, dictated her final poem to her sister. Titled “Last Rhyme,” it was penned in February, just before her death in March. Her nineteenth birthday would have followed just two months later. Her sister later recounted that Juana passed away with her parents faithfully by her side, right there on Simonton Street. She was laid to rest in the grave of a family friend. Shortly after, her grieving family returned to Cuba.
The reunion with their homeland was bittersweet. They found their home devastated by Spanish loyalists. Miraculously, some of Juana’s art, poetry, and diaries were salvaged, a testament to her enduring spirit. While some of her work had already been published and other art pieces were entrusted to friends, the recovered fragments offered a precious glimpse into her brief but brilliant life.
For decades, her resting place remained a silent, unmarked secret until a remarkable rediscovery in 1972. Driven by a deep appreciation for Hispanic literature, a dedicated professor embarked on a mission to locate her grave and ensure she received a dignified burial. Through diligent research, he traced her to her sister, who vividly recalled Juana being interred in the family plot of Aurelio Cordero, a close family friend.
This professor, alongside a group of fellow Cuban historians in exile, successfully located her grave. With the compassionate permission of the City of Key West, they exhumed her remains. Their heartfelt desire was to honor her with a memorial service and lay her to rest in a dedicated burial plot. After enduring 76 years in an unmarked grave, a community rallied, funds were raised, and in 1973, she was finally interred in her own, permanent resting place. In recognition of her significance, Mayor Sonny McCoy fittingly declared it "Juan Borrero-Glory of Cuba Day."
Today, she stands as a foundational figure in Cuban modernist literature, her poignant work continuing to captivate and inspire across generations. Though her poems were collected and published in book form after her untimely death, it wasn't until 1959, with the arrival of a new wave of Cuban exiles to America—exiles who perfectly understood the pain she articulated—that her writing truly found its renewed audience and appreciation.
Her passionate correspondence with Carlos Pío Uhrbach, published in the 1960s, has since become a celebrated part of the canon of love letters. It's a testament to her spirit that Borrero was secretly engaged to Carlos Pío Urbach, defying her father's wishes.
Her final poem, penned within the walls of her Key West home on Simonton Street, encapsulates her enduring legacy:
Last Rhyme
I have dreamed in my dreary nights,
In my sad nights of sorrows and tears,
With a kiss of love and without fire,
without fever and without craving,
I do not want the delight that enervates,
The panting delight that embraces,
And they cause me infinite weariness
The sensual lips that kiss and stain.
Oh, my beloved, my impossible beloved!
My sweet looking dream boyfriend,
When you kiss me with your lips,
Kiss me without fire, without fever and without craving.
Give me the dream kiss in my nights,
In my sad nights of sorrows and tears,
Leave a star on my lips
And a faint perfume of *spikenard in the soul.
*spikenard - a costly perfumed ointment much valued in ancient times.
Última rima
Yo he soñado en mis lúgubres noches,
en mis noches tristes de penas y lágrimas
con un beso de amor imposible,
sin sed y sin fuego, sin fiebre y sin ansias.
Yo no quiero el deleite que enerva,
el deleite jadeante que abrasa,
y me causan hastío infinito
los labios sensuales que besan y manchan.
¡Oh, mi amado! ¡mi amado imposible!,
mi novio soñado de dulce mirada,
cuando tú con tus labios me beses
bésame sin fuego, sin fiebre y sin ansias.
Dame el beso soñado en mis noches,
en mis noches tristes de penas y lágrimas,
que me deje una estrella en los labios
y un tenue perfume de nardo en el alma!
For further reading, in original Spanish version, you can purchase her books at the following affiliate amazon link:
Unfortunately, English versions not available at this time on Amazon.
Sources
Brooklyn College Latina History Project. Juana Borrero. Brooklyn College, City University of New York. http://depthome.brooklyn.cuny.edu/latinashistory/borrero.pdf. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
“Juana Borrero.” Poeticous, www.poeticous.com/juana-borrero. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
“Juana Borrero – Poemas.” El Copo y la Rueca, www.elcopoylarueca.com/juana-borrero-poemas. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
“Juana Borrero.” Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes de Cuba, www.bellasartes.co.cu/artistas/juana-borrero. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
“Juana Borrero.” EcuRed, www.ecured.cu/Juana_Borrero. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
Malcolm, Corey. “Vol. 10: Time Is Not Enough for Me, I Need Eternity—The Brief, Brilliant Life of Juana Borrero Pierra.” Florida Keys History Center, 10 Feb. 2024.
Uhrbach, Carlos Pío. “Juana Borrero.” Cuba Memorias, 2023, www.cubamemorias.com/juana-borrero-por-carlos-pio-uhrbach-desde-el-figaro. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
“Juana Borrero – Los Proscriptos.” El Camagüey, www.elcamaguey.org/juana-borrero-proscriptos. Accessed 9 Nov. 2025.
Comments