Let's Draw by Gioconda Belli

LET'S DRAW
by: Gioconda Belli
Let's listen to the women
their feet are dancing on the sand
let's listen to them
and be silent.

Over there one is dragging her sandals
looking at her damp fingers 
she‘s coming from the factory 
with a handkerchief tied around her head
the machines still echo in her ears 
In the place she dreams 
there are children crowding noisily
around the chairs and the tables 
a big bundle of clothes to wash 
the raw vegetables 
the pots familiar with no other hands but hers. 

The other closer woman. Yes. Young
and walking in her floral dress 
like a balancing artist in her high shoes
with long fingers and red fingernails 
she came from the office 
tired of the telephone's incessant ringing
the coffee in cups of all sizes 
In the place she dreams there's a man
waiting for a smile 
and the bundle of clothes to wash 
the raw vegetables 
the pots familiar with no other hands but hers. 

Over there. Yes. The big woman who
looks like a monument against the light 
Her hands are rough and never have
known the sweet oil of almonds.
They resemble the earth. Clotted. Deep. 
She spent the whole day bent over
below the sun planting the
furrowed earth, 
busy taking care of the seeds' germination. 
In the place she dreams there are
Children crying. Children whose
Profiles resemble earthen jugs.
Children who appear when the moon is full.
And never stop appearing as long as the man
keeps returning from the fields, with dirty clothes,
hungry, and eyes that say fire in the hearth,
kindling in the kitchen,
corn for tortillas.

All the nocturnal bees are coming
with their honey hidden.
These women wanted to be butterflies and spread their wings
Inside the gentle walls of their homes when the day is over.

Let’s listen
here comes the man with his bundle of work on his back:
he leaves it at the door of the house
the raw vegetables aren’t waiting for him
the pots aren’t familiar with his hands
the children are asleep
She is the one who comes to the door
With a smile on her face
the woman, with her bundle of clothes,
the raw vegetables, the hearth,
and the eternal tired smile.

Let’s listen
Let’s draw the future in the sand
and men and women drawing
a world with no divisions
and a blue world where the sky isn’t compartmentalized
where love might leave the beds and the parks
and enter the bedrooms, the mops, the bundles of clothes,
the raw vegetables, the pots, and the children.
Let’s draw a man and a woman engaged in conversation
accompanying each other with their
eyes beyond the door

A man and a woman happily walking on 
the sidewalks on Sundays
as if they had been born together.
Let’s draw a single world where even
small things are important.
Let’s draw a home that’s the same size as the factory
the same size as the best, most valiant battle.

Let’s draw love with big letters;
and men and women loving each other
let’s draw them like the angular stone of a beautiful building.
Let’s draw the strength of a man and a woman
and their love like that of lions for their cubs
Let’s draw a star of light
a bright star on the man’s forehead
a bright star on the woman’s.
Let’s draw ourselves with the colors we love most
the color of peace
the color of tomorrow
The swaying color of sugarcane
the color of that house that we call my house
Let’s draw ourselves
like two hurricanes that hold hands
and draw the world over again.