What old Irnelda said, in my village El Guayabo, Zulia, Venezuela. The wind whistles between the branches of the old cacaguito. Looks like you hear a song. If you don't understand her, ask the old Irnelda, the one in the neighborhood.

Many years ago the tree was already tall and corpulent. It was where it is still, in front of the Zulia river house, near the pond. The tailor's house grew old. Now I was lonely and silent. Poor Ramon lived alone and apathetic. I was born there.

When the swallows arrived in spring they flew around the tree and the roof of the house of the river, glued their mud and built their nests, while poor Ramon had his own completely abandoned, without taking care of repairing it.He stayed at home while the swallows were leaving.

When the house was new and in good condition, the town's tailor and his wife, an honest and hardworking marriage, moved to it. At that time, old Irnelda was a girl. More than once they had given him bread and butter. The marriage had eleven children. It will continue..

Passage in El Guayabo

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