Un barril Ileno de aire
empezo to roll down la bajadita
del arroyo.
slowly . . . slowly . . . it rolled . . .
gathering speed as it went . . .
faster . . . faster . . - faster it ran
kissing las piedras de caliche
and waving, "bye" to los quelites
and shouting, "look at me, i'am free!
it glided gracefully
as it splashed
in the muddy water del arroyo.
there it enthusiastically swayed de lado a lado
bathing itself as it floated down the creek
till somewhat tired it came to a halt
on the banks of this majestic place.
it ran no further.
Some tiny growing hands
baked by los rayos de la luna y el sol
picked it up again.
su panza Ilena de agua
gritaba de gusto
as it again began to roll down the same bajadita
as before.
now at even a faster pace
it flew down.
no podia besar las piedras
because of its great speed.
los quelites y los mezquites
se abrazaban unos a los otros
y carcajeandose v burlandose
en la tierra se arrastraban.
Jumping and bouncing
it rolled down ever-so-fast.
desperately it tried to grab
los manos de las nubes
that watched it without concern.
Till finally,
el grito de la llorona
stabbed every creature to silence
as la boca del arroyo slowly se lo trago.
down in the very depths of the creek
it is buried
never to be seen again.
