_... Y entonces, coléricos, nos desposeyeron, nos arrebataron lo que habíamos atesorado: la palabra, que es el arca de la memoria. Desde aquellos días arden y se consumen con el leño en la hoguera. Sube el humo en el viento y se deshace. Queda la ceniza sin rostro. Para que puedas venir tú y el que es menor que tú y les baste un soplo, solamente un soplo...
De: Rosario Castellanos, Balún Canán
_... And then, fiercely angry, they dispossessed us, took from us that which we had treasured: the word, which is the ark of memory. Ever since those days they burned and are consumed with the wood of the pyre. The smoke rises in the wind and vanishes. The faceless ashes remain. So that you and those younger than you could come and a small blow is all you need, only a small blow...
Rosario Castellanos, Balún Canán
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