Translated from Spanish and Isthmus Zapotec by Wendy Call
An icy wind strikes my heart
some of those who came with me
won’t return
All their dreams
were whipped by thirst
on the parched path
I couldn’t hold their hands
I couldn’t drag their feet
and help them move a bit farther
along the path toward home
To arrive at the tomb of their own dead
and not just die strangers
where no one knew their names
What can I do now
but cry as I remember them
and remember those awaiting
their return with joy
they must plow into the earth
What can I say to their people
What can I do so these deaths
don’t hurt
If only my tears could serve
to water the fields
and coax new life
to bloom