Y Con Brotes De Mi Siembra

Sung.
Along the way, asleep
In puddles, weeds, and stones,
Where your house and mine
Secretly communicate through signs
And a block away they talk about things
Of cracks and leaks,
Last night death passed by
Swaggering on his black mule,
With a white poncho and shroud
And a bone for a lasso and rein.
He pranced at my window
And stopped at your door;
He put your husband on his back,
Chased two others away
And almost caught me
Took me by the hair.

Recited.
Who would have imagined!
To think that a gathering
That started with laughter
Would turn into tragedy;
That friendship and affection
Would go... to hell;
That due to old grudges
Fresh blood would flow,
And in a salad of cuts
We would ruin the party.
What a good thing the gunpowder
So jealous and treacherous
That explodes when memories, wine, and skirts come together!
Especially with your man, who always
Drank the dark chicha;
With you, who are like an axe
To start fights,
And with me, who although never
Look for trouble,
When they step on my poncho
I stir up trouble for prudence.
The night was running,
Trotting at four-thirty.
There was not a piece left
Of the lamb for show.
The wine had flowed
As if to bathe mares
And the female singers, hoarse,
Didn't even flap their wings anymore.
It was then when Chano
Got on the cart
And shouted: Hey! Who's up for
Going to town to stir things up?
Let's go!, let's go, let's go...
Let's go! - everyone said -
But first, the last cueca!
And they started again
The guitars galloping,
The singers trilling their voices,
And the couples getting ready.
The deceased went out to the yard,
Perhaps to ease his conscience,
And you, who had been hinting at me before
With giggles and signs,
You grabbed me by the arm
And to the dance floor we went.
We turned arm in arm;
The others formed a circle;
You lifted your skirt
To show half a leg;
I threw the blanket to the ground;
Made the spurs sing,
And I courted you, like the rooster
With the handkerchief in wing and crest,
In a dance of heel and toe
Stomping at full speed,
With a ring in the same glass,
Embrace and knee on the ground.
In the midst of drumming,
The flute and the rattle,
Right there the party collapsed,
With a single blow.
The deceased came and charged
Straight at us like a beast.
The softest thing he said to you
Was a four-letter name.
He took me on a trip
To the yard by the relatives
And threatened me with the ring
Of the whip to my head.
They couldn't hold him:
What a Christian with more strength!
His stepson asked for cards;
My brother backed my bet,
And the four of us got tangled up
To fight wherever it landed.
From the beginning,
It got ugly.
The insults flew,
The plates and bottles.
The roosters got agitated;
I don't know who stepped on the dog,
And the women were screaming
Like a pig in the tub.
The deceased, iron in hand,
Slashed the air blindly.
A slash bit my shoulder;
I also peeled my tool and yah!...
And that's as far as I remember,
Because a blanket of fog
Blinded my eyes red,
Memory and consciousness.
And here I am!... to what's done, chest out
And let it be as God wills.
Who rides a wild horse,
Let them endure if it bucks.
I'm sorry for you,
But you threw the stone,
And even though you hide your hand now,
Who told you to signal me,
To dance alone with me
And show so much leg
Knowing well that the deceased
Always liked the idea
That if he got his way
And won you fair and square,
He took plowed land
And with sprouts from my sowing?
You, from the party to the wake;
Me, to the hospital and the cell...
How about it, huh! When will you invite me
To dance cueca again?