Señora

By your side I am a child
How are you healthwise?
I hold you dear
I would like to address you informally

To everyone you are the 'old lady'
You are called Rosa, Manuela
Rosario, Regla or Pilar
Your life is a novel
Looking for its ending

Don't start telling me
Lady of those times
Of the washhouse and the lime
You deserve a monument
And no one has done anything for you

You have earned glory
Dolores, Ana, María
Carmen, Concha or Soledad
How beautiful you still are
With your wrinkled face

No need to ask you
Neither your name, nor your age
Let me sing to you
About your wrinkled hands

They never went to school
They barely know about accounts
They never learned to play
Your hands are two legends
And no one has told you anything

Your life was always the same
Of chores and stairs
Of knees worn out
Your hands are to hold
And kiss endlessly

Your name sounds like truth
Teresa, Juana, Josefa
Rafaela or Caridad
Let me see the beauty
Of your wrinkled hands

Bring the guitar, buddy
Who are you going to sing to?
To the breasts that one afternoon
Fed me until I was full

She wanted to breastfeed me
Since my mother couldn't
How can I repay
Someone who wanted to give me
Half of her child

The fields saw you struggle
With cotton and olive groves
With grape harvest and rice fields
You who always managed
With the fringes of a day's work

Dry your eyes, woman
Milagros, Paca, Rocío
Candelaria, Isabel
Who will fall asleep
On your breasts again

Lady, give me two kisses
I don't want to tire you
I thank you for allowing me
To address you informally

Not even the painted smile
Was her husband and her children
Her only capital
You lived with love
Your life for others

What else can you tell me
Lady of those times
Of the washhouse and the lime
You deserve a monument
And no one has done anything for you

Lady, how beautiful you are
Consuelo, Antonia, Luisa
Mercedes or Trinidad
Thank you for giving life
To someone who will not forget