Poem: She-wolf.
By: Alfonsina Storni.
I’m like the she-wolf
I broke up with the flock
and went to the mountain
tired of the being in the plains.
I have a child, fruit of love, of a lawless love.
I couldn’t be like the other women, an oxen caste
with a yoke to their necks; my head raises freely!
I want to tighten the grass with my bare hands.
Look how they laugh and how they point at me.
Because I say it like this: (the little sheeps bleat
because a she-wolf has entered to the farmyard
and they know that she-wolves come from the wild).
Poor docile sheeps of the flock!
Don’t be afraid of the she-wolf, she won’t hurt you.
But don’t laugh either, for her teeths are sharp,
from the woods they learned to attack like a tiger!
The she-wolf won’t steal your shepherd, don’t feel disturbed;
I know that someone told you, and you believed it,
but you did without a basis; that she-wolf
doesn’t know how to steal; her teeths are weapons to kill!