Canción Para Mi Maestra

Once upon a time... you, teacher, and your world
Of inkwell and bench, blackboard and white apron
Good morning, in the morning, you used to say to us
Standing between two photographs
And a cross, a prayer, a song, and a kiss on the cheek

Good morning, teacher... But you never knew, teacher, that when you wanted me to sing that three times one were three my little eyes honestly scratched the knees that modestly you squeezed and squeezed, but a number is not worth as much as a pink skin. Although you made us go to church and took away my licorice that was a small and wonderful world, a world of colored chalks that you painted and erased... Only you, surrounded by priests, gave reason to call a world of four palms