Mambo

    Against a topaz sky

    and huge windows starry

    with delirious heartsease

    and sensual red cayenne；

    the sweet twilight breeze

    fragrant with almond and Indian orange；

    on the Moorish tiles，

    wearing their spike-heeled shoes，

    lowcut dresses and wide swirling skirts；

    their long obsidian hairdos

    in the style of the time；

    perfumed， olive-skinned， smiling，

    my aunts danced the mambo

    and sang： "Doctor， tomorrow，

    you can't pull my tooth

    even if I die of the pain."

    those evenings of my childhood

    when my aunts were young and belonged to me，

    and I danced hiding in their skirts，

    our lives were a happy mambo——

    I remember.