MULES

I painted this illustration for the book I am currently working on, Princess The Pony. It is of a villager from Guajar Faragüit whom I encountered riding back from his finca on his mule laden with olives. Many of the old farmers in Guajar Faragüit still use mules to work in the fields and if you drive through the village early in the morning you will see them riding off to their fincas. A mule is normally stabled in the same village house in which the owner and his family live.

Here is a delightful poem about a mule, but bear in mind my translation is a very literal one. I don’t know how best to translate kiosco so that it sounds poetic.The theme of the poem is the mechanisation of farming methods versus the traditional.

My Mule by Dionisio Cañas

My mule is more
than just a mule
she is the shadow of God.
My mule and I go
everywhere together,
in the morning we stop
in the stands at daybreak
where the country workers
park their cars and tractors,
these machines that don’t have
the heart of my mule.
It doesn’t bother
my mule
that no one takes any notice
because she and I are
the song of a single shadow.
When at night
my mule and I travel
along the dusty roads of La Mancha,
and we look at the firmament above us.
The universe smiles at us
and the stars accompany us
as a crown of light.
The moon guides us
when we are lost.
Without my mule I am nobody,
without me she is a shadow without a name.
One day her skeleton and mine
will return to the earth,
and her bones and my bones
will shine between the vineyards
like the flower of the almond.
From the highest galaxies
my mule and I will look down,
abandoned along the dusty roads
of La Mancha,
the rusting tractors,
the old white vans,
the machines which never
had a heart.

Here’s the poem in Spanish:

Mi Mula

Mi mula es algo más
que una mula
es la sombra de Dios.
Mi mula y yo vamos
a todas partes juntos,
por la mañana paramos
en los kioscos del amanecer
donde los campesinos
aparcan sus coches y sus tractores,
esas máquinas que no tienen
el corazón de mi mula.
A mi mula no le importa
que nadie le haga caso
porque ella y yo somos
la canción de una sombra.
Cuando anoche
mi mula y yo nos paseamos
por los polvorientos
caminos de La Mancha,
y juntos miramos el firmamento.
El universo nos sonríe,
y las estrellas nos acompañan
como una corona de luz.
La luna nos guía
cuando estamos perdidos.
Sin mi mula yo no soy nadie,
sin mí ella es una sombra sin nombre.
Un día su esqueleto y el mío
volverán a la tierra,
y sus huesos y mis huesos
brillarán entre los viñedos
como la flor del almendro.
Desde más allá de las galaxias
mi mula y yo miraremos,
abandonados por los caminos
polvorientos de La Mancha,
los oxidados tractores,
las viejas furgonetas blancas,
las máquinas que nunca
tuvieron corazón.

The description of shining almond flowers refers to the curious luminosity of almond blossom, which radiates light, even on dull days.