From My
Balcony
The children's poets
By Nacho Cadena Owner of La
Petite France
A very, very long time ago, before I was born, before the grandparents of the great-grandparents of your great-great-grandparents were born, poets already existed, those that write verses, those that find something extraordinary in anything ordinary and simple, those that find beauty in every-day things, those that look at love face to face.
Verses were invented in order to speak and to listen and also to imagine pretty things or other things that are weird, mysterious, magical, romantic and loving.
Verses are produced by poets and are enjoyed by all of those who read them and those who by enjoying them - at the same time - are writing their own poetry. It is a phenomenon of harmony without equal between those who write and those who read, and hence a verse can suddenly turn into 10 or 20, thus multiplying manifold the original beauty.
Since the world has to continue its course, it seemed convenient for me to turn my view, my heart and my illusions towards the children. Therefore my dear and respected reader, you and I will talk today about children and poetry.
With your help I will try to remember some of those poets' works that have been written for the little ones of this world, men and women who have communicated joys, teachings, songs and games to the small ones through their verses and through them have given us adults huge lessons about life.
Today I decided to forget Master Champoleon profound expert of life and his reasons , in order to remember so many poets who with a simple and pure soul knew how to reach the children. After every verse we will make a stop, every one in private, in order to come to conclusions or simply to let out a peal of laughter or to shout out with songs to the sky. Let's get rid of the rigid adult dress today (sometimes an iron armor plate) and let's rescue that child we carry inside of us.
Assist me in remembering everything we red as children. We will try to show off our good memory going after those short poetic stories.
As a starter I present you these Mexican verses as a gift.
As they ask for small verses
I bring them many verses
Here I bring a knapsack full
And an untied bag
And in the crown of my hat
Those that I have just sung.
I have one verse after another
Never am I short of them
I carry a small box that is already full
And another one that I am just about to start.
 With the joy of these verses, that by themselves define our intention today, I introduce below the children's poet of poets, the one who with his musical ear was capable of converting his verses into songs, who after his pilgrimage succeeded in transmitting them all over Mexico through that famous radio station called XEW. Over the years the "cricket" singer has given so much joy to the children, has offered so many piñatas, so many beautiful movies and so many pretty dreams for the kids' enjoyment. From Francisco Gabilondo Soler I remember the following song, which is a real life story.
The maguey juice wasp
(This wasp is a male bumble-bee or wasp living in the maguey plant)
The queen of the bees
Was in the honeycomb
And they said to her - Your Royal Highness
Someone wants to talk to you.
The wasp of humble roots
Entered shyly
But eager to ask,
To ask for her heart.
- It seems, it seems as if
You do not know, do not know
Whom you are dealing with
a simple big moustache guy.
I am the queen, a queen of beauty
And a maguey wasp
Just does not tally with my love
The maguey wasp kept silence
After such a humiliation
And gave the proud queen of the honeycomb
The following answer:
-I red that according to the Constitution
We were equal
I believed in a society without classes
But now I see that it is not so
The queen of the bees
Was sucking honey
And one of her workers shouted out:
Here that guy comes again.
She ordered to shut the door
And the queen refused the offer
Because her desire was to get married
To an emperor.
- It seems, it seems as if
You do not know, do not know
Whom you are dealing with
Dark-skinned fat guy.
I am the queen, a queen of beauty
And a maguey wasp
Just does not tally with my love
The maguey wasp frowned
Doubled by the pain
And with sorrow the unhappy guy
Was singing the following good-bye:
-Farewell, my beautiful queen
Who treated me so badly
But according to the country's laws
Here we are all equal.
And the maguey wasp
With its abundant moustache
buzzed off to its maguey
Without any bashfulness at all
Because in the shadow
Of the fleshy leaves, he is the King after all.
I do not know what you think about children's poems. Upon writing them, remembering them, taking them to the press of the newspaper today, I feel much calmer, more at peace, I have forgotten yesterday's, today's and tomorrow's problems. Certainly they soften the soul, delight the spirit and clear up the mind. Let us bring those books to today's children, let us depart for the beach and the boardwalk and let us read out loud those children's poems to the kids, and even shout if it were necessary. May everybody hear them, kids and adults alike .. then, I am sure, there would be no more wars, nor bombs, not even horror movies, instead, I think, we would have good, generous, simple men and women dancing, playing, singing and looking at life with hope, with optimism, with respect and surely having lots and lots of desire to live to its fullest.
 Ah! And together with the dancing and the singing there would be great fancy to work
Who says that they oppose each other?
That was all for today. Thank you very much E-mail: nachocadena@lapetitefrance.com.mx * From My Balcony
is an independent column of Mr. Ignacio
[Nacho] Cadena, owner of La
Petite France Restaurant
in Puerto Vallarta and source of this information.
To contact Mr. Ignacio Cadena please email
to: lapetitefrance@prodigy.net.mx
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