The Disgusting Story of the Roses

Don Crecencio was a butcher

He also had a garden

But his flowers never grew

Because the Rabbits ate them all

—Even the Roses—

Don Crecencio was sad

Because he had no flowers

But was very fond of Rabbits—

What shall I do?

Then he prepared some roses

with ground Goat’s Meat—

He smeared it over the roses with lard—

“Now I have Roses”

Said Don Crecencio

Out came the ugly Flies

They played with the Goat’s meat roses—

“It stinks”

Said the lady of the house—

Don Crecencio fetched his Scissors

And he cut all the flies’ wings—

They were all running over the floor

Eating small Rabbit turds—

“Are they little turtles?” Asked the Child

“They are flies”

Answered Don Crecencio.

“They cannot play with the Roses”

The Badger came and ate all the Wingless

Flies—

Don Crecencio

Prepared more roses with Goat’s meat

And with the others made chorizo

The garden smelled

Of goat.

(Translated by Gabriel Weisz)