My bones are beginning to show their age
They creak like old wood in the morning
My fingers, stiff from the cold makes it difficult to weave
That’s just my body
My soul, youthful as a baby’s
Maybe that’s why the Lady came to me
She saw my soul and not my bones up on Tepayac
Child, she called me
Like a child, I set out to do what Mama asks me to do
Even though, I don’t know how to do it
Like. a mother she shows me the way
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