In remembrance of Francisco Toledo




Micpapalotl (The Black Witch Moth)


In Oaxaca the rains end late

In the Fall and thoughts turn

To life and death and fate

And to what we might learn


About death from the dead

When they come to visit

As it is often said

They do.  But why is it


That they return at all?

Once gone, what reason to come back?

A life well lived too small

Or some other lack?


Mariposa de la muerte

Butterfly of death

What have you come to tell me?

Why touch me with your breath?


Have you the secret of life

On those wings of black and grey?

Or has the man with the scythe

Just sent you here to play?  


Old moth, with your enormous wings

You come to free Prometheus

From the burden of earthy things

From all the punishment and fuss


But who will carry on the fight

Now that you have taken him away?

Who will bring the light

Into the darkness of this day?