El México que se nos fue

How my town has changed
My town is no longer the same
From that beautiful town
To today there is an abyss
There are no longer women with shawls
There are no longer peasant men
The jug no longer goes to the well
It was broken by industrialism
The water in the ditches and rivers is contaminated
A spring has dried up, the mill has closed
Women no longer wear petticoats, men no longer wear Indian pants
Women no longer use their native language, men no longer show civility
The adobe houses are disappearing
Today they are built with blocks, making them ugly
The poor's silver and gold have become expensive
There are no longer copper coins, they are now made of nickel
I no longer hear the Suárez band and their children playing
The square looks sad on Saturdays and Sundays
There are different benches now
There is no longer a kiosk or a small shop
The people from the countryside have left
To start a new adventure
To the fields of the United States
With sadness and perhaps bitterness
Knowing that in their town they have lost
The sugar mill, the mill, and sanity
Few return from there and I have come
And I find it changed, there is no doubt
That it is no longer that small town
That inspired longing and tenderness
It is no longer that beautiful town
Commerce brought garbage to it
Back then they talked about ranches
About the cornfield and the rice field
About music, dance, and singing
About the father, the mother, and God
About sowing and harvesting in the fields
About home, place, and love
Now they talk about terrorism
About the peso and its devaluation
Now they talk with such pessimism
That another revolution is coming
Now instead of looking at themselves
Now they watch television