this is the morning filled with little flags
birds
children
people at the fiesta in the park
first of may on all the banners
squadrons of workers parading their posters
shouting out down with the crooks
there is no work, there is no bread
what have you done with all the dough
hunger can´t take it anymore
people are walking pushing standing on their toes
flooding the street the balconies applaud
people are massing on the sidewalks the arcade
the corners
mom look at him, it’s him it’s him a child cries
pointing at a man in the parade
maybe his papa his brother his uncle
before them the armory overflows with uniforms
hot dogs skewers of meat
yucca tortillas
gimme one
gimme another don’t push dammit
in the entrance soldiers on alert
watching impassive and neutral
tommy guns at their side
municipal workers gesticulating
fists
words
furrowed sour brows
sunlight gilding the trees
the statues
the necks of men clambering in the branches
transparent haze shimmering from the ground
sweat trickling down
soaking hot through the shirt to the skin
while the girls have taken the park by storm
little maids and cooks needed immediately
good pay including sundays
friendly environment your own television
working just for two and extra benefits
and the boys their pants slung below the waist
baggy-legged spruced-up sunday-best
for the fiesta in pascuales and the discos
their little dance so close together just the two of them
and later maybe another little something
and the boys are looking
the girls look back as if they don’t care
waiting with longing
promenading in the park
the girls in one direction
in the other the boys
ardent looks setting cheeks on fire
little winks of the eye
a little cough
a friend introduces them
in effect anything that serves
to kill this sunday
this first of may 1980
Hipólito Alvarado (born 1929) Ecuador
Translated by Alexis Levitin and Fernando Iturburu
Source: Per Contra, Spring 2008
Thanks for the find.
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