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| | Los enanitos |
| Se enojaren |
| (Old Mexican Song) |
THE MEXICAN dwarfs can dance for miles, | |
| Stamping their feet and scattering smiles; | |
| Till the loud hills laugh and laugh again | |
| At the dancing dwarfs in the golden plain, | |
| Till the bamboos sing as the dwarfs dance by | 5 |
| Kicking their feet at a jagged sky, | |
| That, torn by leaves and gashed by hills, | |
| Rocks to the rhythm the hot sun shrills. | |
| The bubble sun sketches shadows that pass | |
| To noiseless jumping-jacks of glass | 10 |
| So long and thin, so silent and opaque, | |
| That the lions shake their orange manes, and quake, | |
| And a shadow that leaps over Popocatepetl | |
| Terrifies the tigers, as they settle | |
| Cat-like limbs cut with golden bars | 15 |
| Under bowers of flowers that shimmer like stars. | |
| Buzzing of insects flutters above, | |
| Shaking the rich trees’ treasure-trove | |
| Till the fruit rushes down, like a comet whose tail | |
| Thrashes the night with its golden flail. | 20 |
| The fruit hisses down with a plomp from its tree, | |
| Like the singing of a rainbow as it dips into the sea. | |
| Loud red trumpets of great blossoms blare | |
| Triumphantly like heralds who blow a fanfare; | |
| Till the humming-bird, bearing heaven on its wing, | 25 |
| Flies from the terrible blossoming, | |
| And the humble honey-bee is frightened by the fine | |
| Honey that is heavy like money, and purple like wine; | |
| While birds that flaunt their pinions like pennons | |
| Shriek from their trees of oranges and lemons, | 30 |
| And the scent rises up in a cloud, to make | |
| The hairy swinging monkeys feel so weak | |
| That they each throw down a bitten cocoanut or mango. | |
| Up flames a flamingo over the fandango; | |
| Glowing like a fire, and gleaming like a ruby, | 35 |
| From Guadalajara to Guadalupe | |
| It flies; in flying drops a feather … | |
| And the snatching dwarfs stop dancing and fight together. | |
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