JUAN CARLOS DAVALOS
He is the old Indian of informer's beards they said,
beginning the history with their habitual modesty
a little man. With a big hat and, hairless,
stalwart as a bull, mischievous as a boy.
Hidden in the pockets of their corduroy short,
a lead hand and another wool hand.
He asks to who finds him, which it is the one that prefers,
if you choose of flat, with that of lead it hurts you.
He makes in the kitchen that dams the pot
he increases in the tulpo the onion dose.
In accordance with the cat, their godfather and, friend.
it tosses hair in the milk, you throw in the wheat,
to midnight it mills corn in the mortar,
it upsets the pony aventa the wasps' nest.
When the nap when the sun reverberates
he appears to the boys under the fig.
To play them he invites with good words.
in the forehead he leaves them tremendous pounchs.
On Saturday at night beat the grocery
and, it bangs on the drunks with heavy insistence.
In the horse, he steals them.
the bread of the saddlebags exchanges it for coal.
The goblin is the demon of] bad that it bites and it happens
the one that rots the eggs, the one that stones the house.
All nuisance comes for its wicked influence
and a single means exists to deceive its science.
It is known it finished the old of informer's beards
that the goblin is a spirit that has a lot of smell.
For I will drive away it is good, as my grandmother said,
to load in the pockets something that much smells.