Consider my soul, this texture
harsh to the touch, which is called life.
Notice so many threads wisely joined
together, and the color, dark, noble firm
where read has suffused its splendor.
Think about the Weaver: her patience
in starting again an always
And hate afterwards, if you can.
Little man, what would you do with your reason?
bind up the world, the mad and furious world?
Castrate the colt called God?
But God breaks out of his tethers
and keeps engineering magnificent creatures,
wild beings whose shrieks
shatter this bell jar.
Rosario Castellanos (1925- 1974)
Translation from Spanish by Julian Pulley