Introduction: in this book, “Poetry of the Miners,” I have written about the miners, and the city of Cerro de Pasco, also about Stone Forest, although only one Epic Poem, yet it is a long one, and tells an ancient story; but what about the mountain people that live in the outskirts, that is, the outer edge of all this. Oh yes, they have a story to tell, and every time I go up the mountains and pass their adobe houses, farms, corrals, and so forth, and see the alpacas, dogs, and donkey’s, I wonder aimlessly about these mysterious folks, I can’t help but think, how come I have not written about them. The children in the doorways, the mothers cooking, fathers herding the sheep, or alpacas pacing in the corrals and on the hillsides; they have their own story to tell 15000-feet up the Andes, and so, having said that I shall tell you my feelings on the matter, in the following two poems, simple as they may be:
High Up in the Sierras
(Mountain People I)
High up in the Sierras, deep in the Andes—
men and women covered with warm cloths,
cheeks like roses, eyes half closed, (inexplicable)
live; walk the mountain paths, hillsides, marked
with Alpaca feet.
Here, one must be careful though, rocks slip down,
fall from their holds. Here, not many trees grow,
and those that do, bear no, to little fruit. Mostly naked
and dotted along the country roads. But so very
little seems needed here anyhow.
A radio, a fiesta (with dance, song and drink),
spreads a cheerful smile on most faces, along the
landscape, here, near Cerro de Pasco, Peru.
No: 2121 (12-23-2007)
Daybreak near Pasco
(Mountain People II)
In the morning, be assured in the center of the houses
(on the other-edge of the City of Pasco), high up in the
Andes, someone’s asleep; warm blood is galloping in
the outside corral; a baby is moving in the womb of a
housewife; the light of the sun is just appearing over
the horizon—; shadows are leaving the moon; prayers
are being said, as the mouse hides deeper inside his
tunnel…!
No: 2122 (12-23-2007)
High Up in the Sierras
(Mountain People I)
High up in the Sierras, deep in the Andes—
men and women covered with warm cloths,
cheeks like roses, eyes half closed, (inexplicable)
live; walk the mountain paths, hillsides, marked
with Alpaca feet.
Here, one must be careful though, rocks slip down,
fall from their holds. Here, not many trees grow,
and those that do, bear no, to little fruit. Mostly naked
and dotted along the country roads. But so very
little seems needed here anyhow.
A radio, a fiesta (with dance, song and drink),
spreads a cheerful smile on most faces, along the
landscape, here, near Cerro de Pasco, Peru.
No: 2121 (12-23-2007)
Daybreak near Pasco
(Mountain People II)
In the morning, be assured in the center of the houses
(on the other-edge of the City of Pasco), high up in the
Andes, someone’s asleep; warm blood is galloping in
the outside corral; a baby is moving in the womb of a
housewife; the light of the sun is just appearing over
the horizon—; shadows are leaving the moon; prayers
are being said, as the mouse hides deeper inside his
tunnel…!
No: 2122 (12-23-2007)
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