Calaveritas literarias en inglés (con traducción)

The Catrina wore her hat with a rose on either side. She was hunting for young Matt, who had nowhere left to hide. "Bring your pencil," said the bones, "bring your notebook and your bread. We have classrooms made of stones and a teacher who is dead." Matt replied, "I cannot go, I have homework due today!" But she laughed and answered, "No - homework never gets in my way." - - - La Catrina se peinó, se pintó y se puso el velo; a Mateo lo encontró escondido tras un ciruelo. -Trae tu lápiz y el cuaderno, trae también tu suéter viejo; que hace frío en el infierno y allá no hay ni un buen consejo. Y Mateo suplicó: -¡Mi tarea está pendiente! La flaquita se rió: -Eso aquí ya no se siente.

Little Juan was playing ball in the park at half past two, when a skeleton, quite tall, asked him, "May I play here too?" She could dribble, she could pass, she was nothing but a bone. Juan slid down upon the grass, and she took him as her own. Now they play beyond the moon with a ball of golden light; Juan still sings his favorite tune and the Catrina holds him tight. - - - Jugaba Juan el balón en la cancha del portal; llegó la flaca al montón y pidió jugar igual. Regateaba con primor, puro hueso y puro viento; Juan corrió con todo ardor, mas lo alcanzó en un momento. Hoy juegan sobre la luna con balón de resplandor; Juan celebra cada una y la flaca es su entrenador.

Miss Rosita taught her class how to read and how to count. Death came in and said, "At last! You have taught the right amount." "Take your chalk and take your book, we need teachers where I live; all my students never look, and they have no grades to give." Now she teaches all the bones how to spell and how to add, and they answer in soft tones, "Yes, Miss Rosita!" - very glad. - - - Doña Rosa, la maestra, enseñaba a deletrear; la Catrina, muy siniestra, se paró para escuchar. -Ya aprobaste, maestrita, toma gis y toma flor; allá abajo hay una cita y hace falta un profesor. Hoy enseña a los huesitos a sumar y a conjugar, y responden los chiquitos: -¡Sí, maestra! sin chistar.

Doña Lupe sold her bread in the market, brown and sweet. Death walked in and softly said, "Bones get hungry. Let me eat." She ate one, she ate them all, then she paid with dust and lace: "Now come with me, do not stall, you will bake in my new place." So they say the sky smells fine every second of November; Doña Lupe's bread divine makes the dead ones still remember. - - - Doña Lupe vende pan en su puesto del mercado; la Catrina, con afán, le pidió el bolillo horneado. Se comió la charola entera y pagó con puro viento: -Vente ya, panadera, que en mi horno hay un asiento. Dicen que el cielo huele a concha y a mantequilla, y que el muerto que se duele se consuela con natilla.

Lady Death enrolled in class to learn verbs and how to spell. "I will pass, and I did pass, I have passed -" she knows it well. Her professor, Mr. Ruiz, gave her homework, gave her tests: "Practice, practice, if you please, and your English will be best." Now she says with perfect grace: "Come with me, my dear, let's fly!" And the students, face to face, answered her in English: "Bye!" - - - La muerte entró a la escuela a estudiar el buen inglés; se sentó junto a Manuela y contó del uno al diez. El maestro don Ramón le dejó plana y lectura: -Practique la pronunciación y verá qué gran soltura. Hoy la flaca, con primor, dice: "Come with me, my dear", y responde con temor todo el grupo: "Not this year!"

On the second of November the Catrina throws a ball. Every bone you can remember comes to dance inside her hall. There is bread and marigold, there is music, there is light; and the stories that are told keep the dead ones warm all night. So don't cry when I am gone; set a candle, set a plate. I'll come back before the dawn - tell the Catrina not to wait. - - - El dos de noviembre entero la Catrina hace su fiesta; llega el muerto pordiosero y el catrín con su orquesta. Hay pan dulce y chocolate, cempasúchil y farol; hay quien baila y quien combate por el último frijol. No me llores cuando muera: ponme vela, ponme flor; volveré de la ribera del olvido, con amor.