Abuelita

Grandma, grandma, slow steps and your soft skin,
Clung to your rocking chair weaving time,
Embroidering love with your gaze
Placed in a corner, sad and distant rocking the goodbye.
Winter has come again and with the cold, the humidity,
The pain, that memory that broke your skin
And your desires to live as well.

Grandma, grandma, slow steps and your soft skin
Grandma, grandma, my little old lady,
Over seventy and you're still beautiful.

In your memory wanders a song
The serenade on a sunny Sunday
When the tear suddenly appeared
And you realize that time flew.

How could I not remember when you kneaded at home
And I played hide and seek to steal the bread from the kitchen
And on Sundays with family we were over twenty
Gathering around the big table and the barbecue grill
The wine, the soccer afterwards
And the famous discussions of the elders
About politics, about money,
About the rising cost of living.
About the old dog biting one of the kids, I don't know,
We always ended up the same way
Like every Sunday, kicking each other.
But the following week
We returned as always to grandma's house.
To your house, to the house of the beautiful little grandma, grandma.
Grandma, grandma...