Doña Estefaldina

Mrs. Estefaldina hates the Freemasons,
Prays for the contributions to decrease,
Reprimands the girls who have a beau
And squeezes her sharecroppers in the rents,
Turns her vast halls into granaries,
Gives kind words to those who cry for bread

Mrs. Estefaldina counts the points
Of time and sowings making predictions,
And when the chaplain crosses the square,
She folds her stocking, asks for the shawl,
Pins herself, and with a stool
Runs to the novena with a dog's trot

Mrs. Estefaldina, blood of the vargas,
Knits her stocking on the long afternoons
Under the grim eaves that the sparrow pecks
And with what ceremony in her gestures
She responds to the greetings of the chaplains
Mrs. Estefaldina from her balcony!