In the backyard of a house, there was a 15-year-old boy improvising verses while holding two buckets of water at his chest level.

-And he says:

Earwax, I forget,

Gold mine,

I don't dig, I don't cry.

Because of the itching of the waterfalls,

For the repellency of the toasted corn,

For God's forgiveness,

I assure you,

I didn't remember,

To take out the accumulated pollen,

To obey my dear grandmother,

For this reason, I'm punished.

If you forgive me,

If you forgive me,

Your poor grandson,

Promise now,

Use the fluffy white,

And so,

There is no gold,

There are no punishments,

There are no brooms assaulting my column,

Smiling coldly and indifferently.

Silence fell, and his grandmother only kept looking at him while smiling. He understood that it would be at least another hour before the punishment was over.

En el patio trasero de una casa, se hallaba un joven de 15 años improvisando versos mientras sostenía dos baldes de agua a la altura de su pecho.

-Y dice:

Cera de oído, yo me olvido,

Mina de oro,

No excavo, no lloro.

Por la comezón de las cataratas,

Por el repelús del maíz tostado,

Por el perdón de dios,

Aseguro,

No me he acordado,

De sacar el polen acumulado,

De obedecer a mi querida abuela,

Por ello estoy castigado.

Si me perdonas,

Si me perdonas,

Tu pobre nieto,

Promete ahora,

Usar el esponjoso blanco,

Y así,

No hay oro,

No hay castigos,

No hay escobas asaltando mi columna,

Sonriendo fríamente indiferente.

Se hizo el silencio, y como su abuela solo seguía mirándole mientras sonreía. Entendió que pasaría al menos una hora más antes de que terminara el castigo.