I have often remembered, thought about, and tried to recite a certain poem that I learned while I was a little girl in Mexico. Each morning we'd arrive at school and when we were ready to begin, the teacher would have us all stand in a line, according to grade (as she taught several grades together in her one-room schoolhouse.) While we stood in line she would first have the oldest children check all the younger children for "cleanliness," because "cleanliness is next to Godliness." Next, if I remember correctly, we would recite a short something from the Roman Catholic Catechism. Then we would recited 2 or 3 poems which she taught us and had us memorize. She was a stickler in teaching us to not make it sound like a "sing-song." She insisted on good intonation and sound for each poem, "as if you're telling a story, not just reading and singing the words." There are a few poems I remember. However, I only remember the main parts of them. So today I found the one I was thinking of. I had such a happy, jiggly-heart when I read it all. I felt like I was back in time, 7 years old again, and without a care in the world but making sure I used the right tone of voice while I read the poem "El Viejo Ratón" ("The Old Rat"):
I know. It doesn't rhyme as well in English, and for Americans (who are not "romantic" like Latins are, it won't even make sense or sound like a logical poem. But it is. Teaches the kids that if they make the choice the "play while the cat's away", there will still be consequences. I remember reciting this all those times and imagining the pictures in my head of this old rat without hair, tail, walking with a cane, and blind and deaf. And I do remember thinking "I better not try to get away with stuff, because I'll get caught just like the rat did and he got his tail chopped off. I'll probably get a spanking!" That was enough to scare me away from many-a-things. HaHa! Hey! It worked!
Oh! I truly had the most wonderful childhood. It was not perfect. But it was wonderful and happy. I'll see if I can find some of the other poems later. That would be nice, wouldn't it?
Hay catorce lauchas, en torno a un ratón, viejo, rengo y ciego,pelado y rabón.
-Cuéntenos, abuelo, lo que le pasó.
Y repite el cuento que otra vez contó:
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
-Cuéntenos, abuelo, lo que le pasó.
Y repite el cuento que otra vez contó:
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Por una cocina, me paseaba yo. Limpias las baldosas, fregado el fogón,
no había en el suelo ni un grano de arroz.
La señora escoba, todo se llevó.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Dormida en un banco, sobre un almohadón, una gata negra, hacía rom rom.
Cuando un gato duerme, pasea el ratón. Esto lo sabemos, ustedes y yo.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Andaba esa noche, del banco al fogón, con mi larga cola, como un gran señor.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
De pronto descubro, cerca de un rincón , que un trozo de queso, la escoba olvidó.
Lo que no se barre, lo come el ratón. Esto lo sabemos, ustedes y yo.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Huelo me relamo, doy un mordiscón, y en una trampera , mi cola quedó.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Por comer de prisa, me quedé rabón. La laucha más laucha, pregunta al ratón:
-¿Y la gata negra, no se despertó?
-Fue por un milagro, que no me comió.
Pito colorín, pito colorón
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Dormida en un banco, sobre un almohadón, una gata negra, hacía rom rom.
Cuando un gato duerme, pasea el ratón. Esto lo sabemos, ustedes y yo.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Andaba esa noche, del banco al fogón, con mi larga cola, como un gran señor.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
De pronto descubro, cerca de un rincón , que un trozo de queso, la escoba olvidó.
Lo que no se barre, lo come el ratón. Esto lo sabemos, ustedes y yo.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Huelo me relamo, doy un mordiscón, y en una trampera , mi cola quedó.
Pito colorín, pito colorón.
Por comer de prisa, me quedé rabón. La laucha más laucha, pregunta al ratón:
-¿Y la gata negra, no se despertó?
-Fue por un milagro, que no me comió.
Pito colorín, pito colorón
English Translation:
There are fourteen she-rats, Circling a he-rat
He's old, lame and blind, hairless and tailless.
- Tell us Grandfather, What happened to him.
And he repeats the story, Which he told before.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
I was passing, Through a kitchen, The tiles were clean, The stove was scrubbed
On the floor wasn't found, Even one grain of rice. Mrs. broom took everything away.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
Sleeping on a bench
Upon a large pillow, A black female cat, Purred and purred.
When the cat is sleeping, A rat will go for a stroll. This we know, you and I.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
I was going that night, Between the bench and the stove, With my long tail, As if I were a gentleman.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
All of a sudden I discover, Near a corner, That the broom forgot, A piece of cheese.
What is not swept up, A rat will eat. This we know, You and I.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
I smell I lick my mouth, I give a big bite, And my tail is left, In a big trap.
Pito colorín, Pito colorón.
For eating in a hurry, I am now tailless.
-And the black cat? She didn't wake up?
It was only by miracle, She didn't eat me.
I know. It doesn't rhyme as well in English, and for Americans (who are not "romantic" like Latins are, it won't even make sense or sound like a logical poem. But it is. Teaches the kids that if they make the choice the "play while the cat's away", there will still be consequences. I remember reciting this all those times and imagining the pictures in my head of this old rat without hair, tail, walking with a cane, and blind and deaf. And I do remember thinking "I better not try to get away with stuff, because I'll get caught just like the rat did and he got his tail chopped off. I'll probably get a spanking!" That was enough to scare me away from many-a-things. HaHa! Hey! It worked!
Oh! I truly had the most wonderful childhood. It was not perfect. But it was wonderful and happy. I'll see if I can find some of the other poems later. That would be nice, wouldn't it?
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