Bookshelf

W
a
qa
nki
cha Wa
qankicha
Waqanayta
chu Munallan
ki Waqanallayta
Munaspachu Ripuy
Pasaywan Siq’uwan
ki. Ripuspaqa Ripu
llayña Pasaspaqa
Pasakapuy K’anka Manaraq
Takishaqtin Wayracha Hina Mana
Rikuylla. Wayq’ukunapi Yawar
Ch’unqacha Q’asakunapi Q’umir
Muñacha, Sunqunanayta Thanirachiway
Chiqaq Munaywan Hampirukuway.
Thanirachiw   ankipuni Chayqa
Hanpiruwan      kipuni Chayqa
Qanllap        aqsi Way
llukuy            ñiyqa
Wiñ             Mun
ay           ay
lla             ku
pu              say
ni               ki
s                

So you’re washing once again mamaku, dear mother?
it’s raining now, don’t wash now
there’s water enough
and dirty clothing enough
for your sorrows,
and some days without rain.

Stop washing more clothes mamaku
stop scouring against that rock,
it doesn’t hold your sadness
stop hurting your hands mamaku
these clothes are just¬ dirty tatters,
not my punishment.

Leave it now mamaku,
I beg you
let your tears transform into foamy water
and this wretchedness in the air pursues me
relentlessly
Stop twisting those clothes, no more wringing,
it does no good.
these waters cannot free you from your pain.

Leave it now, leave that timeworn rock
it cannot speak,
leave its pores to guard you laments
speak no more to it.
Leave it now mamaku, for the rain carries on.