The river of Benafim
A long time ago (everything is in the past)
a river ran near the houses its water was calm and fresh
it came from the upland.
Parts of the rive run quite deep
we could swim a little and frolic about.
I had a dog back then
she preferred the shallow parts looking rounded stones
like an egg, she gave them to me.
I thanked her patted her head and put the stones in my bag.
The river is dry now, only an ugly scar in the landscape.
Smallholdings must drive further up to find water.
Bigger farms have small man-lakes that fills with rain,
but it doesn´t rain so much anymore.
By August they too have to go upland for water.
The toilers of crops, tell me it was like this in the fifties
what do I know, I say nothing to keep the peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem