Posts Tagged ‘banquito’


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That frigid morning, very early his mother had come, bellowed from the leg as if calling or waking, he heard the first roar the bull began to bellow as if mother would say I'm here. That same morning I got for my birthday newborn calf born. Bench when I called him whitey still could not pronounce it, even a little curious confession, thus we call it, I now realize that their animals to the villagers is like a credit institution (bank) reached four or five years sell their bulls to acquire their different needs, so that caregivers, because it is eaten with bread, rice, kerosene is purchased, phosphorus, also his clothes. Now the bench was a big bull, white with some black spots on its back, was the last time you went to look at the Pasto qata was in December, most villagers had already finished planting the fields for us too we were missing the last seed in the Supun quruy, the farm where grown in those months when the ground has been watered by the rains. All morning I could not find it. I was angry, as ever, my body had warmed up and sweating. When suddenly at the top of Qunani began flying some condors flying closer to me, as if they were patrolling. I went back to the top of that big hill Kano leg where he had found the land Huayrunguito was smooth as I noticed some traces, I was afraid, or sweating more, it was a profound failure in the field, a ravine, in that part was a quagmire ichus seemed torn on the rocks had been white hair, I managed to stay standing, head down, sad, fearful, bench would have fallen into the ravine reaching the ichus.

I started running, downhill, the bench was echadito on the rocks of the avalanche, I was looking for a long time, compared affront in silence. Wamani you that you're your own animals you take him to my bench, we have no money, not buy anything: no bread, no rice, no matches, no clothes, we will be watching the other chocolate makers on December 25. Nor sow in Supunquruy. Karaja Qanra! Maqtillu crying does not work, had every bone broken, his back was flayed, rasmillado, bleeding from his nose, without the right horn was would have been in that gully between ichus. Carapo In the sky the sun shone, the sky was almost clear with some clouds spread over the hills, they moved quietly, thrushes and other birds of the avalanche on chillca loud on the bones, chasing fluttering jumping on the tastes in the avalanche and tayas that high in the sky soon cleared flew on a pair of condors Ay bench, bancuchallay! I could not stop, I jumped into the white collar of stool and cried like never in my life, your body warm, the smell of fresh ichu had just slowly with my joy. I hug your neck, put my face on his back bleeding and began to die at his side believing that the cold that entered his body would reach my veins, into the light of my eyes. Ay malaya life! Waychaw you sing your, your song will forever malaguero.