Las Soldaderas

My grandmother would sigh, and even cross herself
When she told me about the Revolution
She would recount that the little ranch, next to the stream
Was an inheritance from her father named Ramón

My father was a sharecropper, a horse tamer and cowboy
His hair tousled and sunburned
He liked to wear sandals, with an Apache style
And sometimes he enjoyed a sip of moonshine

I was confused, when the farewell came
A bucket of cold water, I felt it pour over me
With a face of sorrow, he twisted a leaf cigarette
He slung the saddlebag over his shoulder, and closed the door
His spurs shone, the dew in sequins
He ran through the meadows and never returned

Skirts in red, others like emeralds
Fluttered in the wind, among cotton flowers
Men in war, women in the fields
Famine was coming and didn't discriminate

Mom cried so much that the bread got salty
The fight was between brothers in the same situation
Pots and pans lacked beans
And with the first frost, there was no firewood for the stove

I was asking why they were fighting
My mother, pondering, gave me an answer
She spoke of flags, fights for land
Of ideals and parties and the Revolution
She went to the Boquilla, where the guerrilla is
To fight with Villa, for land and education

The stories ended, and the indulgences
The rebels mounted and headed south
My eyes amazed, watching the Golden Ones
Who bet their lives because their lives were a gamble

Shrapnel shot, and the heart bursts
They told me my father died for the nation
When a blackbird sang, we went to say goodbye
And then we left to continue the rebellion

My mother, a female soldier, who there in the trench
Sang 'Jesusita', 'Las Pelonas' and 'El Barzón'
Her hands fed the whole regiment
With the rank of sergeant and firm conviction
She played with dolls, chicken and crooked leg
She didn't flinch at the cannon's roar

I grew up as best I could, with my mother as a shield
Always with her head held high showing her courage
Fierce like a beast, with the spirit of a ranch woman
Pride of my race, more beautiful than a flower

I remember her skirt, of long percale
And her white petticoat and cotton shawl
Her skirt my comfort, blanket, roof, sky
From bullets and downpours, her skirt my protection

I walked in the sock, watching that spectacle
And at the sound of a firecracker, the fight began
Artillery fire, with the cavalry
And the band played, encouraging the battalion
The atoles boiled, chili for the beans
And the general with suns, directed all the action

Female soldiers, joyful revelers
They were like beasts facing the occasion
They walked without hesitation, taking care of their boys
Without fear that a bullet would pierce their hearts

They wore blush, danced cheek to cheek
They were light and joy in the revolution
They knew how to ride, showing off white petticoats
They were beautiful Marietas as the song says

Their names and surnames, were forgotten
And in my song I ask to pay them devotion
Messenger doves, fly, fly lightly
Like the female soldiers of the revolution
Tell that the women fulfilled their duties
Earning the respect of the whole nation

Oh little doves, of the revolution