LIKE CIGARETTE PAPER
My poor mother "La Daniela"
As they called her at the Casa de los Picos
In the capital of Segovia
Where mothers and children took refuge
In the fratricidal war in Spain
While their husbands were
In the war between rocks
Bunkers and trenches
In the Guadarrama mountain range
Particularly in its port
Where at the foot of the lion monument
Placed in the center of the road
Symbolizing royal power
And its strategic value
For the defense of Madrid
Between the two sides
And its connection between Madrid and Castile
The nationalists and republicans met
To arrange, during their breaks from war
On weekends
Going down to the brothels of the capital
To have sex with fascists or militiawomen
Drawing lots to see who would be saved
In the war, once again, on Mondays, begun
While the women suffered and cried
To try to get ahead to her children
While her men fought "to the death."
"La Daniela" with five daughters no less
She had no help but that of the King of Heaven
"Who gave her health and protection"
As she herself said
And confidence in seeing her husband arrive victorious
From the Cabeza Lijar lookout
Having prepared his carnal furrow of love
For his long-awaited plow
Confidant that it was true that he was a saint
One of the few who hadn't come down to Madrid
To let off steam with the street-walking whores.
One day, when "La Daniela" and her daughters
Along with other women and children
Were near the chapel of El Carmen
In San Rafael, Segovia
Praying to the Virgin
That her husband would arrive safe and sound
She saw herself weeping with joy
Seeing her husband mounted on his horse
Tired, but happy, victorious.
She signaled to him, called him.
The hermitage bells ringing
The town was all excited
She and her daughters running to congratulate him
Promising him that today he would have his field
Open to all his passion of love
Although to his fellow women
He would have commented:
-That, because of my husband
My was like a cigarette paper
Still suffering well and a beauty
To Daniel, my love.
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