Against a topaz sky
and huge windows starry
with delirious heartsease
and sensual red cayenne；
the sweet twilight breeze
fragrant with almond and Indian orange；
on the Moorish tiles，
wearing their spike-heeled shoes，
lowcut dresses and wide swirling skirts；
their long obsidian hairdos
in the style of the time；
perfumed， olive-skinned， smiling，
my aunts danced the mambo
and sang： "Doctor， tomorrow，
you can't pull my tooth
even if I die of the pain."
those evenings of my childhood
when my aunts were young and belonged to me，
and I danced hiding in their skirts，
our lives were a happy mambo——
I remember.