Hila Y Reta

Starting the string
It's just making a couplet,
In January the wind blows
And in August, what heat!,
The chicheme is the best
At the San Blas parties,
You saw me and you don't remember...

...you saw me and you don't remember
And if I saw you, I don't remember,
Mr. Judge, I don't recall
If I was given a commission,
How easy forgiveness comes
Hand in hand with forgetfulness...
But I don't forget anymore...

...but I don't forget anymore,
It was engraved in my memory
And that's how I tell you the story
If you don't hear me, don't listen to me.

String string, couplet...
String and stitch, couplet...

Where do the hopes of an old man go to die?
Looking at ourselves in the mirror
Youth slips away from us,
Like coffin nails
That's how your looks were,
And they are sown in the field...

...and they are sown in the field
The poor man's illusions,
Saltwater is no good
To feed the harvest,
The fool is the one who doesn't take advantage
Of the grace God gives him,
I'm from here, not from there...

...I'm from here, not from there,
That's why I ask you, brother,
To give me the Nicoya sun
For all eternity.

String string, couplet...
String and stitch, couplet...

"for that I have my fists"
The late Guevara said,
"measure with the same stick"
The tagarote always asks,
The jocote is thunderous
When cut at the right time,
If you love me, I ask you...

...if you love me, I ask you,
Why do you treat me so badly?,
Is it that in that griddle
You're stirring another pot?
Why so many fireworks
If May 8th isn't?
The fish dies by the mouth...

...the fish dies by the mouth,
I waited for you and you didn't call,
I don't know Guanacaste
With signs in English!

String string, couplet...
String and stitch, couplet...

(recited:)
"the devil knows more because he's old"
Said a certain Methuselah,
Seven hides and Bethlehem
Flood in the winter,
"I don't want to go to hell"
Four pisuicas shouted,
Where do they hide their chuicas
Those who sell their land?

He who forgets his history
Doesn't deserve compassion,
The faithful are forgiven
And the greedy are punished,
True friends
Are known by walking,
A while on foot and another walking
You reach Cuajiniquil.

The rifle was sparking
Of the so-called Goyo Díaz,
I would never leave you
If you weren't so skittish,
Only Brother Francisco
Was a saint among wolves,
Forgive me for loving you so much
My dear Mariquita!