In the country the sun heated our cotton shirts <br />And we felt children wrapped in hot clothes. <br />From the cow's breast the milk sparted in the bowl. <br />The wind raised the tuff dust which stuck to our sweaty skin. <br />US know the great passages but Mexico knows the revolution. <br />Movement means to go on, revolution means to turn upside down. <br />Many little land-owners can make progress together; <br />Many poor campesinos can regress, there are Villa, Zapata, Madero. <br />Mexican moms put the ladies' underwear back into the wardrobes. <br />Dads covered ways through empty fields. <br />Collectivization is the fate of who owns nothing. <br />A white broad-brummed veil covers the Lesbia's head, <br />Her face keeps still: I don't know if it's hope or wait. <br />Mexican people cross the wall and go in the United States of America.<br /><br />Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/estados-unidos-mexicanos/
