Overall, one of her best works, as agreed upon by critics such as Nilita Vientos Gaston, is "Rio Grande de Loiza." It is the poem that is most likely included in any poetry anthology by Burgos due to its rich imagery (Augeros xvii-xxxiii).

"I Myself was my Route"

"Rio Grande de Loiza"

of all those who made the journey to your port. 

They did not announce lubricious social ceremonies to me,

nor the deaf bells of ancestral reflections;

my route was the wild music of the birds 

that released my goodness into the air in a stir.

Heavy ships of opulence did not load me,

nor oriental rugs supported my body;

above the ships my face appeared 

whistling in the round simplicity of the winds.

I did not weigh the harmony of trivial ambitions 

that promised your hand full of sparkles: 

the tragic abandonment that concealed your gesture. 

Your perennial duality was marked by my avid thirst. 

You resembled the sea, resonant and discreet. 

About you I was passing my lost schedules. 

Above me you followed like the sun in the petals. 

And I walked in the breeze of your fallen pain 

with the naive sadness of knowing that I am right: 

your life was a deep beating of restless sources

in an immense white river running towards the desert.

(Burgos, “I was”)

Black of pure tint, I cry and laugh
the vibration of being a black statue;
a chunk of night, in which my white
teeth are lightning;
and to be a black vine
which entwines in the black
and curves the black nest
in which the raven lies.
Black chunk of black in which I sculpt myself,
ay, ay, ay, my statue is all black.

They tell me that my grandfather was the slave
for whom the master paid thirty coins.
Ay, ay, ay, that the slave was my grandfather
is my sadness, is my sadness.
If he had been the master
it would be my shame:
that in men, as in nations,
if being the slave is having no rights
being the master is having no conscience.

Ay, ay, ay wash the sins of the white King
in forgiveness black Queen.

Ay, ay, ay, the race escapes me
and buzzes and flies toward the white race,
to sink in its clear water;
or perhaps the white will be shadowed in the black.

Ay, ay, ay my black race flees
and with the white runs to become bronzed;
to be one for the future,
fraternity of America!

(Burgos, Ay Ay Ay)