Note: This poem was originally written in Zapoteco.

My chatty little girl:
pile up your words,
cut your words into pieces and anoint me
with them
to see if they can soothe the pain I feel now.

My chatty little girl:
I do not ask you for potions or unguents,
Neither witches nor doctors.
Only your little words know how to cure me.
But if you do not agree, my chatty little girl,
then they themselves would now begin,
to prepare my mortal tomb.

Originally published in Dilla Ra’ana, El Lenguaje del corazon Poemas Zapotecas, Mexico, Direccion General de Culturas Populares, Oaxaca, l987.