The Dance of The Mares: A Rereading of Lorca’s Yerma
By
Mohammad Charmshir
Translated Exclusively for Gallery Mamak
by Mamak Nourbakhsh
To Dr. Ali Rafii
One: Bar
Juan
You should have been there. You should have witnessed the entrance of Don Gito. He strode in like a man Don Gito did, like a real man. The crowd went wild crying out his name… Where had this Don Gito been? Where? Someone suddenly opened a door; a door opened and the crowd fell silent. It was Don Gito who had entered. He was on a short legged horse whose mane fell into his eyes. He was dressed in silver... Where did his gaze fall, this Don Gito’s? Where… He sat quietly on the horse and entered. The crowd watched silently. First he came to the center of the square this Don Gito did. He was getting off his horse. He got off the horse this Don Gito did. He headed for the place where the dead bull was lying in the middle of the square. He knelt.
Don Gito knelt down right next to the horns of the dead bull… What was this Don Gito up to… What was he doing… He bent over. Bend over, he did, and he kissed the horns of the dead bull. The crowd exploded. Suddenly everyone l started yelling. You should have been there. You should have seen him enter. He strode in like a man Don Gito did. Like a real man he did… I have always wanted to be a man like Don Gito.
Two: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
Have you ever seen the dance of the mares, Juan? You should watch them dance with stallions. They, the two of them, stand next to one another. They stand and stare at somewhere far away. They stand like that for so long that their breathing becomes one. Then it’s the mare that lifts her head and places it on the stallion’s mane. She puts it down slowly; ever so slowly she neighs in the stallion’s ear in a soft and monotonous plaint. Then she suddenly turns quiet, soundless. It’s like no noise has ever come out of her throat. Then she suddenly begins to move on her legs. She does this very very slowly. A shiver starts to move through her body. It’s like the trembling of a leaf on a branch. It starts from her tail and moves through her mane; she does this ever so slowly. Then the stallion begins to move with her movements. They both move slowly, rhythmically. Gradually the stallion becomes restless. He’s listless and white foam begins to form at the corner of his mouth. You should see his restlessness, Juan. You have to see it… I have always danced like a mare for you.
Three: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria
Always let men think they’re real men even when they understand less about masculinity than a mule does. When they get home, make sure you’re at the door. Let your eyes laugh even if you’ve been crying nonstop the whole time he was gone. Breathe like the air inside the house has freshened with his entrance even if the stink of his sweat makes you want to puke. Pull him onto a stool, close to your stove. Let the aroma of the food you’ve made fill his nostrils even if he can’t distinguish between your cooking and shit. Take off his boots even if they’re covered in dung. Fill his dish with twice the amount you would put on yours even if he doesn’t eat it and you have to feed it to the dogs. In bed, hold him tight even if you’re too exhausted to keep your eyes open. Don’t just lie in bed like a de-plumed bird. Jump around like a cat, lick like a fish, howl like a dog: don’t ever let him know you need his masculinity much more than this… Now, go!
Four: Under the Light Stain
Yerma is putting make up on Maria. She finishes what she’s doing.
Maria
Yerma.
Yerma
Go, Maria, go… Alexandro is waiting for you.
Maria
Talk to me, Yerma. Let me hear your voice till I’m far, far away.
Maria leaves.
Yerma
Now Alexandro is standing there, Maria. He’s waiting for you. He keeps raising his head over the crowd that surrounds him to see you. He wants to be the first one to see you: the Maria he loves. You suddenly appear at the door. Alexandro sees you and his eyes open wide in surprise. How beautiful you look, Maria! Then his eyes begin to glow. You blush with the look Alexandro sends your way. Your whole body warms. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest. You hold your head down, Maria. Then you look at him again. Now Alexandro is laughing, one of those laughs you like so much. You also laugh, Maria. Alexandro works his way out from among the crowd that is surrounding him. He heads in your direction. He’s coming to embrace you. He’s coming to kiss your lips but suddenly he feels bashful. Then he just holds out his hands to you. You take his hands into yours… Oh, Maria, dreams are always lovely things.
Five: Donna Maria Passes By
Maria is passing by. She and Donna Maria are facing each other. Maria kisses Donna Maria’s hands and passes by.
Donna Maria
Don’t try to be the woman you want to be. Always be the woman your men want you to be. Men don’t want much. They’re like kids who nag a lot but they’re also satisfied with little things. Give them a bit of caressing. Most important of all, give them arms to laugh in, cry in and to calmly sleep in.
Six: Bar
Don Miguel
Well our Alexandro is becoming a groom. Strange! It’s like it was just yesterday that he was standing at Jose’s barber shop wall and peeing in his xxx… Has anyone told this groom here what he is to do?
First Woman
Everyone was waiting for you, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Does that mean no one here knows how to do anything…? Tell this groom that if we presume that all men in this world are matadors, then who would the bulls of this ring be? Let’s assume they’d be women. Now, what is our matador to do with this cow?
Second Woman
He’s to fight it, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
A person plays with his toe or with the neighbor’s kids but with a cow, no… The matador kills his cow… isn’t that so, Juan? Every matador has to eventually bring down his cow some day. Tonight our Alexandro has to bring down the strongest cow in this country.
Third Woman
He will. Alexandro will bring down any cow, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
You’re so adamant on this point that it sounds like he’s already tackled you… Well, how about you, Juan? Have you planted anything in your cow’s womb?
Juan
No, not yet, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Then, do it. Hurry before it’s too late. Finish off that cow, Man.
Seven: Under the Light Stain
First Woman
I’m getting sick of hearing these things.
Yerma
But Maria has to know.
Second Woman
Don’t worry about her. It’s her choice. She knows what to do much better than we do.
Yerma
How is a girl to know of such things.
Third Woman
She has to be blind not to have seen things. What else is there hereabouts for a girl to see other than these things?
Fourth Woman
She’s seen her mother. She’s seen all the women in these parts. Isn’t that enough to understand?
Fifth Woman
What else do we women do other than make men out of our men? What is there to hide?
Yerma
Her husband Alexandro is a good man.
Sixth Woman
What difference does it make if men are good or not? It’s the women who have to be good.
Yerma
Maria is a good girl.
Seventh Woman
Not all good girls turn out to be good wives.
Eighth Woman
You were a good girl, too, Yerma.
Yerma
Now I’ve turned out to be a bad woman… I do all the things they tell me to do.
Ninth Woman
So why is your husband forever running away from home?
Yerma
Juan, he loves his land. He loves his cows. He loves his sheep. He loves me.
Tenth Woman
Don’t believe that there is so much room in a man’s heart for all these things.
Eleventh Woman
His land brings him produce. He increases the number of his cows and calves. His sheep breed… what do you do for him, girl?
Yerma
Isn’t it good enough that I’m a good wife for him? That I love him? That I do things for him to love me? Isn’t it good enough?
First Woman
What woman can’t do all those things for him?
Yerma
But he wants me to do them.
Second Woman
He has expectations of those cows he so loves. He has other expectations of the sheep he loves. He has yet other expectations from you.
Yerma
What was I to do that I didn’t do?
Eight: Donna Maria is Passing By
Everything wears out fast here; women faster than anything else. Everything dries up, thickens, hardens fast here; men faster than anything else… Men eventually always become men; let them become men by caressing your hands, with the warmth of your body, with the love that only you can give them.
Nine: (continuation of seven) Under the Light stain
Yerma
I’m as stupid as a mule.
Third Woman
Get Juan a child before your hair turns white.
Fourth Woman
Let people say Juan is as strong as a bull. Let him believe he’s a man.
Yerma
Do men only realize they’re men by having children?
Sixth Woman
They’re as ignorant as mules.
Yerma
So how do they know if I’m a woman or not?
Maria
Maria enter
Maria
I’m so scared, Yerma.
Ten: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
A woman is like a horse. Stroke your horse before mounting her but while galloping whip her… a woman is like a horse. Play with your horses’ mane but punch her between the eyes from time to time so that she knows you’re her only rider… A woman is like a horse. Pull out the stones and pebbles from your horse’s hoof but don’t force the nail on her shoe into the hoof… A woman is like a horse. Let your horse go as far as the reins on her harness allow her to go then pull the bridle in time. A woman is like a horse. Let your horse eat fresh grass but not so much as to forget the taste of hay… A woman is like a horse. Love your horse but not so much as to let her forget the taste of hay… A woman is like a horse. Love your horse but not so much as to make her think she can take you anywhere she wants… A woman is like a horse. One has to mount her and gallop anywhere that it’s possible to go.
Eleven: Under the Light stain
Victor
Yesterday Julietta noticed that you’re all sad these days. What’s wrong with you, Yerma? What’s bothering you? It’s not too hard to guess… If you ask me, Yerma, I’d say that when God threw Adam and his wife out of heaven, he put them on this earth and in this country right here. This is the land of the forsaken. That’s why there’s no pity or forgiveness in this land that’s why everything is so different here and that’s why loving is the hardest thing to do of all here… It’s easy to die here, Yerma, but it’s hard to live, to love, and most importantly to forgive… I still talk too much, Yerma; still mostly with you. I can’t help it, Yerma. There are times I tell myself that I should even forget your name; that I should build a wall between you and me. I tell myself that you’re living in that house with a man who’s your husband. I tell myself that you’re another man’s wife. But I can’t forget. You’re always Yerma for me, Girl! I still love you. I still believe you were only rightfully mine… I hate this country, Yerma: a land that lives so cursed, so loveless… Yerma, even now not a day passes by when I don’t think of you. Not a day goes by when something in my heart doesn’t tremble for you. You’re still Yerma for me, Girl.
12: Bar
Don Miguel
Have you ever seen a horse that has fallen, Juan…? I’m talking to you, Juan, have you?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
What did you say, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
You have to see one. You have to see the fear of falling in the horse’s eyes… Have you?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
That horse might never rise again. Juan, do you know what a horse that has fallen and can’t rise again does?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
What did you say, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
That horse doesn’t neigh any more. Not that it doesn’t want to, Juan. It doesn’t neigh because it knows that with the very first neigh fear will fill the spirit of other horses… Did you know that, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
This is a rule. Every horse knows this from the time it’s born... Have you ever fallen, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
What did you say?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
So you can still neigh… Do you know what will happen if you don’t neigh, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
You’ll be put an end to, Juan, just so the other horses don’t get scared… Neigh, Juan! Neigh as much as you can.
Thirteen: Under the Light Stain
Maria
I have three dresses: one of my dresses is brown. It’s got lace trimming on its sleeves. It’s got lace trimming on its collar. It’s too tight for me around the chest. It squeezes my breasts. I know Alexandro won’t let me wear it even if I keep my shawl over my shoulders cause in his head he’s always worried that someone might have squeezed my breasts in that dress. I don’t like my third dress. I don’t like its color. I get depressed when I wear it, but Alexandro always tells me I should wear that dress. I wear it but I’m always depressed.
Fourteen: Donna Maria Passes By
Don Miguel
Always demand things of your men even if you know they can never get them for you. Let them think you’ll die without them even if you know they can’t do up their pants without you.
Fifteen: Bar
Victor
Don Miguel, I’ve lost my life. Where were these traditions the day I was losing my life?
Don Miguel
Right here, right before your eyes.
Victor
So how come I didn’t see them? How come I never heard anyone speak of them to me?
Don Miguel
We were sitting, waiting to see what you’d do.
Victor
What was I to do, Don Miguel?
Don Miguel
You should have killed him. You should’ve killed him the very day he went to Yerma’s house.
Victor
But they were happy. Yerma’s father was happy.
Don Miguel
Her father was happy when Juan reached their house alive… Don’t you get it, Victor? Juan puts on his hat to go to Yerma’s house. He knows that Victor is waiting behind the wall with a short bladed sword in hand to kill him, but he still goes. He goes and gets to Yerma’s house alive and well Yerma’s father realizes he’s a man. In the same way he realizes that Victor no longer wants to step forward for Yerma. Everything has a meaning here, Victor.
Victor
When you don’t kill it means you’ve given up your rights.
Don Miguel
You should’ve killed him, Victor.
Sixteen: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
Are you asleep, Juan? You slept listlessly all night.
First Woman
You were breathing hard, very hard, Julio.
Yerma
I was very scared, Juan.
Second Woman
You were moaning and you kept on talking, Kurta.
Yerma
You didn’t know what you were saying, Juan. What were you saying? Why were you crying?
Third Woman
I called you several times, but you wouldn’t wake up, Jose.
Yerma
I was very scared, Juan.
Fourth Woman
The bedding was wet with your sweat, Salvadore.
Yerma
Tell me, Juan, is anything wrong?
Fifth Woman
Why shouldn’t I know your pains, Ignacio?
Yerma
Sometimes I feel like I’m locked up in this house by things I don’t know, Juan.
Sixth Woman
Am I locked in this house, Camellio?
Yerma
Tell me what’s wrong with you, Juan. What makes you so restless?
Seventeen: Bar
Juan
He was holding a piece of red cloth in his hands; in his hands this Don Gito was. This Don Gito was dancing on his feet before the bull this Don Gito was. You should have seen him dance with that bull… Very gently Don Gito raised one of his feet off the ground, ever so gently. The piece of red cloth stuck to his waist. His entire body was grounded firmly on his other leg. Now, the other leg slowly moved in the air and was placed behind the first leg. Don Gito slowly turned around. He turned on his waist this Don Gito did. Once more he stood firmly on two legs… You should have seen him dance with that bull… He was holding the red cloth in his hands, in Don Gito’s hands it was. This was when the cloth made an arc in the air and the bull was struck right from the middle of the red cloth: right along the body of Don Gito. Those horns were only ripping through air and that arc… You should have seen him dance with that bull. He was dancing on his feet this Don Gito was, right before the bull.
Eighteen: Under the Light Stain
Don Miguel
Make your husband a delicious meal today, Marianna. Yesterday he was praising Fernando’s wife’s cooking. Emporio, get along better with your mother in law, she’s a sly one and quite capable of making trouble between you and your husband. Don’t laugh too much, Lucia. You know how much your husband hates airheads. Isabella, take better care of your husband. Recently his eyes roam all over girls’ hips. Carmina, don’t complain at home so much! Men don’t have much patience.
Nineteen: Under the Light Stain
Victor
Yesterday Julietta mentioned that you’re planning to go to Donna Maria Alvareza’s shrine. I have always hoped that this country could have belonged to you women: yours and the saints’. It would have become a good country this country would have had it been like that, Yerma. A woman takes a candle for another woman to help fulfill her wishes. How well the secrets of one woman are kept by another woman. We’re living in a man’s country, Yerma. Men don’t tell their secrets to anyone; not even to themselves. That’s why everything is so hard here, Yerma. Words stay on the ground here: in closed jars that no one can be bothered to open. That’s why you can’t look at the sky and exclaim about how beautiful it is because when you say this no one will look at that sky again… I wish that you at least would say whatever it is you have to say, Yerma.
Twenty: Under the Light Stain
Maria
Seven pans. Five cups. Four plates. Six spoons. Two candlesticks and twenty candles. One small wooden cupboard. One bedspread. A small bundle of my clothes. One wooden hairpin. One large toothed comb. One xxx. I brought these with me to Alexandro’s house.
Alexandro says I also brought my tears. I cry a lot these days in Alexandro’s house. Nothing there is as I had imagined it would be. It’s like I just moved out of our house and into Alexandro’s house. Everything here is exactly like it was in our house. Last night when I was washing the dishes, I noticed how much like my mother I was washing them; like myself when I was in my mother’s house. I wanted to say this to Alexandro. I realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch; like my father used to in our house.
Twenty One: Bar
Juan
Just one more glass, Juan, then we’ll get up and head for our nests. We’ll go to our anxious pigeons who’re waiting to open their wings to us… Can you hear them crooning, Victor?
Victor
We have to go, Juan.
Juan
Just one more glass, Victor, just one more… Do you know what this smell is that is always everywhere, Victor?
Victor
I can’t smell anything, Juan.
Juan
I can. The smell is in my head, Victor, in my head.
Victor
So maybe we should head outside and get some fresh air, Juan.
Don Miguel
It’s the crooning of those pigeons you’ve got in your nests. They’re telling you you aren’t taking good care of them… Do you have a pigeon in your nest, Miguel?
First Woman
Juan has taken away his pigeon, Don Miguel.
Victor
We have to go, Juan.
Don Miguel
Sit down, I want to tell you of my dreams, Victor.
Second Woman
He’s got enough dreams of his own, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Dreams of bulls or pigeons?
Victor
My wrist hurts, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Feel like a fist fight, Victor?
Victor
With you?
Third Woman
Fight with Juan, Victor.
Fourth Woman
Juan is not feeling too well for such things tonight.
Don Miguel
Over whatever you say, Victor.
Victor
Don Miguel, you’re making a big thing out of nothing.
Juan
You’re not afraid, are you , Juan?
Victor sits down and prepares for the fist fight.
Don Miguel
One more glass for Juan and Victor each.
Victor
You better end it fast.
Don Miguel
Juan, in my dreams there is a bullfighting ring with no crowd, but I’m there… Juan, has this Don Gito of yours ever fought in an empty ring...? In my dreams there’s some woman or other, Juan. But I don’t know why her face is white; white like a ghost’s… Juan, if your Don Gito had been around what would he have done with this woman?
Juan
He would have kept on looking at her till a smile appeared on her lips.
Victor
You’re drinking too much, Juan.
Juan
You take on a gruesome look when you begin talking like Yerma, Victor.
Don Miguel
Juan, in those dreams I die with my guts all spilled out. What happens to your Don Gito?
Juan
The woman throws her kerchief into the ring, Don Miguel. Don Gito picks up the kerchief and kisses it.
Victor
Do you want to end it, Juan...? Are you destroying yourself?
Juan pulls down Victor’s arm.
Juan
I told you you look terrible when you talk like Yerma.
Don Miguel
I’ll pay for this table.
Juan wants to leave. Don Miguel stops him.
Don Miguel
Remember, Juan, the milking cow gets drunk faster than the others.
Twenty Two: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Never let your women know when you love them more. Let them turn to you with their tears, begging for love. Let them always come to you in need. Don’t let them know you need them just as much. Don’t forget, women always want to be the winner: a winner in everything: most importantly, in their share of life with you.
Twenty Three: Under the Light Stain
Victor
Yesterday, Julietta said your eyes were red, Yerma; as if you’d been crying. Yerma, I know there are plenty of excuses for crying here but I want to know why you cry. Are you crying for your losses or for those things you’ve not gained? One can cry for either one here because this is the land of crying, the land of regrets. There is a tear for everything. It’s as if these very tears relieve pain. Yet, is there a relief, Yerma, when the soul has been so cut and wounded? No, there is no relief, Yerma. There is no relief for these wounds. And since there is no relief, once more it’s these tears that pour down. There is nothing here but tears, but wounds… Which wounds are you crying for, Yerma?
Twenty Four: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria enters. Maria wants to go. Donna Maria confronts her. She places a hand on Maria’s stomach. Maria rushes out.
Donna Maria
Bring strong boys for your men. Raise them the way you raise your husbands. Let your husbands boast of their sons to each other. Let them touch your stomachs. Let them press their ears to your stomachs. Let them feel the infant move under their hands. Let them hear the sound of the blood of their children in your stomachs. Let them hold you hard and whisper in your ears, ‘this child is mine, it’s my very own.’
Twenty Five: Under the Light Stain
Maria
How can I put it to you...? Have you ever held a live xxx in your hands?
Yerma
Yes, yes.
Maria
It’s exactly the same thing… Only it’s as if that xxx is inside your stomach.
Yerma
A xxx? That small? How well you speak of it! My mother always used to say it’s like a crab. Over the last ones she used to say it was like cats clawing at the wall…
Maria
My mother always used to say this and it scared me.
Maria
Yerma, I’m really scared.
Yerma
Of what? Of a little xxx?... What’s wrong with you, Maria?
Maria
Who is this growing inside me...? What am I to do with it, Yerma?
Yerma
Hold it in your arms. Sing it a lullaby. Talk to it. Tell it you love it.
Maria
Then what will it become when it grows up, Yerma? Will it become me or Alexandro? Like which one of the men and women of this nation will it be? What do I have to give it?
Yerma
You’re wonderful, Maria!
Maria
Everyone tells me how wonderful I am. Then, how come I can’t live the way I want to in spite of being so great? Why can’t you, Yerma?
Yerma
I’m not good and I don’t want anything from life.
Maria
You don’t, Yerma!
Yerma
No, not when I can’t get it. Maria, you now have that which I’ve always wanted.
Maria
I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know anything… I want to get to my mother but I tell myself she’s an old woman. She’s forgotten all these things.
Yerma
What do we need your mother for? We’ll take care of it ourselves, Girl.
Maria
How?
Yerma
Get up, walk! Not so fast, slow down! Pretend you’re walking on clouds, on your toes. Don’t take long strides, take short ones. Always throw your weight on your toes. This way your stomach will always be a cradle in which the baby can gently rock… Now, breathe. Slowly, very gently, but deeply. Let your lungs fill with air like you’re in an orchard filled with the smell of xxx and almond blossoms. Like you want to fill your lungs with these smells… Now pull back your shoulders. Straighten your back like you’re holding a flower with your lips. Like you’re worried its petals will fall on the ground… Oh, Maria, how maternally you stride.
Maria
Yerma, is it true that it will kick my stomach with its feet?
Yerma
Like a horse trotting on rain drenched grass: soft and mischievous… Maria, there will be days when the sound of his laughter will fill your ears. A day will come when you’ll put an olive in your mouth and you’ll hear the sound of that tiny mouth tasting that olive… Oh, Maria, what wonderful days you’re going to have with this tiny bird of yours!
Maria
How do you know such things, Yerma?
Yerma
From my dreams, Maria, from my dreams.
Twenty Six: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Let your horses nurse well from their mothers’ breasts but don’t let them take on their mothers’ smell. Let your children neigh next to their mothers but don’t let them learn to gallop from themxxxx. Let your children neigh like a horse beside their mothers but don’t let them learn to neigh from their mothers. Let your children’s mothers take hold of them but don’t let them become men among women’s skirts.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Twenty Seven: Under the Light Stain
First Woman
What are you sewing, Girl?
Yerma
Things for the baby.
Second Woman
A baby is missing in this house.
Yerma
These aren’t mine. They’re for Maria’s baby.
Third Woman
What about you yourself?
Yerma
We’re not thinking of it yet. Juan says, ‘Everything in its own time, Yerma.’
Fourth Woman
So when is the time?
Yerma
He says maybe one of these days… I’ve prepared everything myself. I made all the baby’s clothes.
Fifth Woman
So what’s the use when there’s no baby around to wear it.
Sixth Woman
Look at Maria! She’s but barely arrived in Alexandro’s house and her stomach is already swelling.
Seventh Woman
Have you seen the way she walks? Her forever flaming face? Those lips that don’t stop smiling?
Eighth Woman
Take care of him. Let him come out of this mood.
Yerma
I want to. I just don’t know how to.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzTwenty Eight: Bar
Juan
It was a large bull: the largest that could be found in Spain-extremely strong. Its eyes had no black. It was like the entire eyeball was white. In that whiteness there were red streaks. It looked like its eyes were burning in fire. Don Gito has forced five of his spears into its neck. Blood was gushing out of that bull. Each time it stopped a pool of blood appeared under its feet. The crowd went mad. It was roaring and that bull was still standing. It was still moving toward Don Gito. His clothes were drenched in blood. Don Gito looked at that bull; he slowly waved the re cloth. Now Don Gito started turning that cloth around himself. The crowd had gone crazy. It was yelling and it kept coming toward Don Gito. It was a large bull. It was the largest bull that could be found in Spain.. It was extremely strong. Don Gito kept turning and the bull kept coming toward him. Suddenly Don Gito stopped. Now the bull was facing him. The sword was swaying in bull’s neck. Again blood gushed onto the bull and Don Gito.
Twenty Nine: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria
Scream when your babies are born. Let your men get as scared as they can. Let them believe they committed the biggest sin in the world when they asked you to have babies. But you yourselves can enjoy this pain. Tell yourselves that if this pain comes back ten more times you’ll welcome it. But don’t let your men understand this. Let them believe that it’s only for their sakes that you’re willing to tolerate this pain again; even if it is ten more times.
Thirty: Under the Light Stain
Maria
Give me your hands, Alexandro. I have no more strength left.
First Woman
Close the windows, Julio! I don’t want anyone to know I can’t stand this pain… Get my mother! Don’t panic! Just come back quickly.
Maria
Do you remember our wedding night, Alexandro? You whispered of the son you wanted in my ear. Now he’s coming.
Second Woman
Wipe the sweat off me, Kurta! Put that pan on the fire. Put those white sheets where I can get to them… I want to weep.
Maria
You can call him whatever you want, Alexandro, to me he’s always going to be ‘the little bird’.
Third Woman
I want to scream from this pain, Jose. Give me that pillow so that I can sink my head into it and scream.
Maria
I’ll never let you hit him, Alexandro. I won’t let you shout at him. You’re only allowed to be kind to him.
Fourth Woman
Never again ask me to give you another son, Salvadore. I’m in hell in this pain.
Maria
Let’s raise him well, Alexandro.
Fifth Woman
It’s like this son of yours isn’t coming out of my stomach, Ignacio. It’s like he’s coming out of my head, my back, behind my eyes slowly descending from my behind my eyes.
Maria
Come, Alexandro, let’s always tell him we brought him into this world.
Sixth Woman
I can already hear him cry, Camellio. I wish he would laugh just as loudly.
Maria
Alexandro, ask me to give you more sons. Let me suffer this pain again.
Thirty One: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria
Wash your children. Wrap them in the whitest cloth that can be found in the house. Hold them under your breast. Let them suck with greed. Let them be saturated with the mild from your breasts. Then call your men, place their children in their arms and lie back in bed proud. Let your men know that on this day you’ve done the biggest thin in the world for them even if tomorrow they tell you life has to go on as it used to.
Thirty Two: Bar
Juan
Enough Don Miguel! I don’t want to drink any more… I love her, don Miguel. I love her so much that it’s driving m nuts, Don Miguel. The fear of one day finding out that she doesn’t love me… Enough, Don Miguel! I don’t want to drink any more… I always talk to her and treat her in such a way that she doesn’t find out how much I love her, but I know I love her. There are times, Don Miguel, when I’m just sitting and suddenly the smell of her body fills my head. It’s like one thousand bulls have been let loose in my heart. I can’t stand it. I go home breathlessly. I ask myself if those one thousand bulls are also beating around in Yerma’s heart. I open the door and see her. She’s calmly sitting doing something. How come those bulls are so quiet in Yerma’s heart, Don Miguel?... it’s enough, Don Miguel! I don’t want to drink any more… sometimes I feel I have to tell her all this. I have to show her everything. Then I get scared again, Don Miguel. I’m afraid she might see, look at me, pat my head like a child and put me to her breast to cam me. Don Miguel, I don’t want any of this love to calm down inside me. I want Yerma to burn from this love the way I do.
Victor enters.
Don Miguel
Don’t let those one thousand bulls beat about in Yerma’s heart for anyone else.
Thirty Three: Don Pietro Passes By
Don’t let your women leave the house without a head covering. Be jealous of those hearts that desire that hair. Don’t let your women take their shawls off their shoulders. Be jealous of eyes that look at them with longing. Don’t let your women speak or laugh in a loud voice. Be jealous of those hearts that tremble with the sound of these voices and laughter. Don’t let your women look at eyes or lips. Be jealous of the sight your women might make… Women are like rain. They drench any place they rain on.
Thirty Four: Under the Light stain
Victor
Yesterday Julietta said you’ve not left the house in a number of days. Why have you closed the doors on yourself, Yerma? Why are you hiding yourself behind these doors? Is it even possible hide anything in this land? Yerma, don’t think you can’t be seen behind the doors. In this place we’re all standing right in front of each other’s eyes. Come out from behind those doors! Open those doors, Yerma! There’s nowhere to hide or to be hidden in these lands. We all have wounds, Yerma. Some of these wounds are deep, others superficial. This is the land of pains and torments, Yerma. Why do you hide your wounds from others?
Thirty Five: Under the Stain of Light
Juan
The bull is standing before Don Gito holding its head down. It’s looking at the ground; it’s breathing heavily. Very slowly Don Gito is pulling the red cloth out with his left hand from behind him. Very slowly he brings it in front of himself-in front of his waist and legs. He takes hold of his sword with his right hand. This is when the bull lifts its head. Is it looking at Don Gito or at the red fabric? No one knows. The bull draws lines on the ground with its hoof. Don Gito knows that the bull will be heading in his direction will all its greed to kill. Now the bull approaches. Don Gito has to rise on his toes, to let the bull approach. He has to place a distance the length of an arm and the width of a sword blade between themselves. This is when Don Gito throws his weight forward. The sword pierces the bull’s neck. He has to press. Don Gito has to force that blade into the bull with all his might. Now it’s the bull that draws in its arms and legs into its belly before Don Gito’s feet. Ever so slowly the bull lies down on the ground and Don Gito one again looks into eyes that no longer hold anything other than the blackness of death.
Thirty Six: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
How could you leave him and come here? What will you do if he wakes up, is frightened and wants you?
Maria
Yerma, he’s clean and warm now and he’s eaten like a calf. He doesn’t need anything right now except sleep.
Yerma
Did you close the doors? The windows?
Maria
Yes, I did.
Yerma
Did you leave the window slightly open?
Maria
I did.
Yerma
Did you turn off the stove…
Maria
Yes, I did… Yerma, I’m his mother. I understand these things now.
Yerma
You’re right. I keep forgetting you’re the mother.
Maria
You’re not the only one who forgets; everyone forgets.
Yerma
What makes you speak like this? Who forgets you?... Come here! Come, give me your hands. Come put your head right here.
Maria
Forgive me, Yerma. These days everyone is busy teaching me how to be a mother.
Yerma
I was only worried, Maria.
Maria
Yerma, have I changed a lot? Why is it like this, Yerma? Why does everything become normal so fast? Did you and Juan change towards each other the way Alexandro and I have? So cold and distant?... why don’t you ever tell me anything about yourself, Yerma?
Yerma
Well, maybe that is because I don’t have much to tell… Juan comes home each day and greets me. I also greet him. Then there is nothing else. We might sometimes speak of greetings we have exchanged with the neighbors. Maybe… there is nothing much to talk about, Yerma.
Maria
How hard everything is here, Yerma!
Thirty Seven: Under the Light Stain
Victor
Yesterday I told Julietta to tell you that I’m leaving, Yerma. It’s really hard for me to leave but I think I’d better go. I don’t want to leave for my own sake, it’s for your sake. I don’t want your life to become difficult for my sake. Yerma, this is the land of bitterness, the land of envy. Dreams are quickly forgotten here. Here, tomorrow is today and there is no yesterday. Yerma, one has to accept many things here. You either have to accept everything or you have to take off and leave. I’m leaving, Yerma, because I don’t know how I must live here. Do you know how a person has to live here? I wish I could ask you to come with me, Yerma. To tell you to come and get out of here with me. I’m not saying that it’s for your sake or for mine. Maybe it’s for the sake of the child you so long for but which does not want to step into this anger stricken land. That child is hope, Yerma-your great hope. Yerma, I never did understand why your father accepted Juan when he knew I wanted you. I didn’t understand why everybody thought I should have killed Juan in a dark empty street when everyone knew I loved you. Nor did I understand why I was to be killed at Juan’s hands now that Yerma would never be mine, when the loss of Yerma is an agony whose burden I have to bear in my solitude. I’m leaving, Yerma but regardless of where I might be you will always be Yerma to me, Girl. The very same Yerma whom I’ve always longed for… Yerma, I won’t let you have any news of me but I want you to live. Yerma, live well.
Thirty Eight: Under the Light Stain
Don Miguel
When you see the corpse you’ll realize he’s been hit from behind. They dealt him a blow right in the middle of his back. When you see the corpse you’ll see he’s been killed according to our customs. This means rules had been broken here and that someone had to put things back again. When you see the corpse you’ll know that everything has been set right. He’s suffered a lot. He’s clawed at the ground badlyxxx. When you see the corpse you’ll know that after he was dealt the blow he swung around; he turned his face toward his aggressor. He knew why he was being killed. His eyes were still open when they found him. When you see the corpse you’ll realize that he knew of the tradition of this type of death; he knew he had to hear of the laws for which he was dying. It’s a good thing that everyone knows the laws of killing and dying. He was pressing his lips together as if he wanted to speak or to scream out in torment. When you see the corpse you’ll know the blows had come one after the other. They didn’t hit him in his chest. All the blows had been dealt in his stomach. They had to hit him in his stomach. The laws governing this type of killing dictate it. He had dragged himself on the ground. The line of blood traced on the ground shows this. When you see the corpse you’ll know that with each blow dealt him they had talked to him. They had told him of the laws of this type of death. Only three blows; they only dealt three blows. He was leaving. He was leaving this place. You could see this from the bundle that was lying next to him. When you see the corpse you’ll know that one person has killed another because of a single custom. A law had to be carried out and it was. The street had been dark and empty. No one saw what took place. He was a good man, Victor was. But no one saw anything. No one saw how he died and no one should have.
Thirty Nine: Bar
Juan
The bull had been lying on the ground before Don Gito’s feet. Blood was still pouring out of the bull’s neck. Don Gito was standing looking at him. The crowd was screaming. Don Gito lifted an arm and removed his hat. He pulled his feet together. His body straightened, this Don Gito’s did. He lowered his head for that dead bull. The crowd shrieked. With his other hand Don Gito pulled the red cloth down over the bull’s face. The crowd was hollering. Don Gito turned around; he turned around and faced the crowd. His hat was turning in his hand. The crowd was yelling.
Forty: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
Are you sleeping, Juan?
First Woman
He’s not sleeping.
Yerma
I want to talk to you.
Second Woman
He doesn’t want to talk to you.
Yerma
I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now. These are things I’ve always bottled up. I’ve always wanted to tell you but I never did. I’ll say all these things later, Yerma.’
Third Woman
Leave it to later even now.
Yerma
Juan, everything is getting late in all this ‘telling later’.
Fourth Woman
What’s getting late? Nothing is ever late.
Yerma
It’s getting late, Juan. Everything is being destroyed. Our life has become so cold and empty, Juan… I’ve always had to beg you for everything.
Fifth Woman
You should always ask for everything this way.
Yerma
Juan, I want a baby. I’ve been wanting to become a mother for a very long time… Did you hear what I said, Juan?
Sixth Woman
You have to beg him once more, Yerma. You have to beg a lot.
Forty One: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Women are born with their tears. They live with their tears. They die with their tears. Women give everything with tears. They take everything with tears. Women laugh with their tears. They become sad with their tears. Women love with tears. They enchant with tears… Don’t let women take hold of your homes, your sons, yourselves with their tears. Let those tears only wet their kerchiefs.
Forty Two: Under the Light Stain
Don Miguel
Don’t laugh, Marina. Don’t cry, Ampero! Don’t should, Lucia! Don’t be sad, Isabella! Don’t do anything, Carmina. Shut your mouths. Be quiet! Don’t forget, women have come into this world to hear, not to talk.
Forty Three: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria
Put your husbands to sleep on your bosoms. Don’t let them tell you their secrets. Let them speak of their anger, of their nostalgia and most importantly of their dreams to you. Let them believe you hear all that. But don’t you yourselves talk to anyone! Don’t believe that anyone will hear what you have to say. Don’t forget you belong to your men just like the homes, your children your take, chairs and walls do. Your men want you to believe, to wait and to always keep your mouths shut. Pour your happiness in your homes and your sorrows into your hearts.
Forty Four: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
Today Maria’s baby died, Juan.
First Woman
Julio, today I learnt that the worst thing in the world is not death; it’s loss.
Yerma
Juan, Maria neither cries nor does she do anything else. She just keeps pressing her child to her bosom, the dead child.
Second Woman
Today I love my children more than I do at any other time, Jose, because I have realized how easily I can lose them.
Yerma
Is it better to never have had or to lose, Juan?
Third Woman
Today I saw how a woman can breathe and walk but be dead, Salvadore.
Yerma
You need to have in order to cry for loss, Juan. I don’t have anything to cry or laugh for.
Forty Five: Bar
Juan
Don Gito was standing over that dead bull. The crowd was still shrieking. Don Gito’s sword was in the bull’s neck. Blood was still pouring out of the bull. Don Gito bent over. His hand stayed on his long sword. He drew it. He drew it till he removed it from the bull’s neck. The sword didn’t come out. He pulled again. It wouldn’t come out. Now the crowd wasn’t shrieking. Now it was completely silent. Don Gito stood firmly on the ground. He grabbed hold of the sword firmly. He pulled. Suddenly the sword came out. It was broken. The sword was broken. Don Gito looked at the broken sword. He threw it on the ground. The crowd was bellowing once more. It was like Don Gito was no longer hearing these noises. His head was down. The red fabric was being drawn behind him. It was drawing a line across the ring that red fabric was. It marked the entire distance Don Gito walked.
Forty Six: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
Maria, you’ll see a lot of women on your way to the temple. Some of them are so old you’d think they’ll die on the way. Some of them are so young you can’t figure out why they’re walking this path. All these women you see have desires, Maria. Desires that can even at time be laughed at but you mustn’t laugh at them, Maria. They have desires just like you and I do. Maria, you can’t imagine the things you’ll see on this path. Women, each of which is holding a lit candle. They’re all chanting one prayer in a loud voice. You will see a winding road lit by the flickering candles. You will hear the sound of the prayer that is being chanted everywhere. You have to walk slowly with that candle, Marina. You can’t let the candle go out. As you cling that path you have to make a wish in your heart, Marina, a good wish. It doesn’t matter if it’s small or big, it only needs to be good.
Maria
Yerma, is it a good wish to want to die?
Yerma
Now your face looks so much better, Maria.
Maria
I’m talking to you, Yerma.
Yerma
When you cry the blackness of your eyes pours down your face, Maria.
Maria
What do I want the blackness of my eyes for?
(She removes the make up from her face.)
You don’t understand a thing, Yerma. You’re a stupid woman.
Yerma
You’re right, Maria. I don’t understand a thing. I’m like a piece of stone. I don’t even break into pieces… Oh, Maria.
In each other’s arms.
Maria
I was a mother, Yerma. I have lost my child. Can you understand?
Yerma
No, Maria. I have never had anything to lose. Can you understand?
Maria
I want to die, Yerma.
Yerma
Don’t say such things, Maria. You must life. You have to bring more sons into this world.
Maria
So that they can die again? I can’t take losing one more time, Yerma… All these day I’ve said to myself, ‘lucky Yerma. Yerma who has never possessed can never have or lose. It’s very hard to lose, Yerma. It’s as hard as dying but once you lose then dying is not so hard any more.
Yerma
Let’s talk of life, Maria.
Maria
Not when death is so close, Yerma. Let’s speak of death… I will carry a lit candle down that road. I will say the prayer that all the women say. I will walk slowly so that the candle doesn’t go out. Then I will make the biggest wish of my life, Yerma: the biggest wish that a woman like me can make… Let me go where ever the angel of death goes, Yerma. Let me take in the breath of death from the face of that xxx in my heart.
Forty Seven: Donna Maria Passes By
Hide your tears in your kerchiefs and your laughter in the wrinkles on your faces. Men don’t like tears but they hold laugher for themselves. Let them eat with your laughter. Let them work with your laughter. Let them sleep with your laughter. Let your men believe that sorrow will never come closer than the thresholds to their homes. But whenever your men turn around, shed your tears. It’s only with crying and these tears that envy leaves the heart of a woman and breaks down. One can cry for all these things in the world.
Maria approaches and stands before Donna Maria. Donna Maria kisses her forehead and Maria passes by.
Forty Eight: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Women don’t suffer pain; they give pain. They don’t get tired; they tire. They don’t suffer torment; they torment. Empty them from your hearts; empty your heads of them. Don’t remember women except in bed; just remember them enough to be able to forget them again. Dream of horses. Dream of land. Dream of herds of sheep but don’t dream of women. Women steal your sleep from you. They rob you of your hearts. Instead they bring you anger; they bring death with themselves.
Forty Nine: Under the Light Stain
Maria
Alexandro, I’ll never wear my brown dress again. I’ll never wear my green dress again. I’ve ripped up all the dresses I brought with me to your house except that dress you always wanted me to wear but I wouldn’t I’m happy you didn’t let me wear anything but that dress in your house. I now like black. That color reminds me of something I once had but no longer have. That think whose loss I weep for every day. Alexandro, I’ve lost the greatest thing of my life. You’ve only lost your child but I’ve lost my love. Alexandro, I never loved you: neither you, nor your house nor even those dreams I’d dream every night in my father’s house. I now know all that was to get me to something I once had but no longer do. Oh Alexandro, that child wasn’t just a child for me-he was everything I possessed: all those things I’d always dreamt of. He and I would speak of everything: of things that existed but shouldn’t have. Of things that didn’t exist but should… Alexandro, Alexandro, how he and I would laugh at you when you’d come in and try to be a father. You wanted to be a husband but you weren’t either one. That child and I would laugh at everything, at all the things you were and we weren’t. now I’m left without a love, Alexandro. I’m going to be loveless for the rest of my life.
Fifty: Bar
Juan
The bull was lying on the ground. On soil that was deep red from blood. There was no crowd left in the stands to shout. Don Gito was still standing in the middle of the ring and he was watching the bull. Riders riding short legged horses were approaching. They were carrying rope with themselves. Don Gito wasn’t watching them. They tied their rope to the bull’s horn. They dragged the bull on the ground and took it away. Don Gito wouldn’t look at them. There was a long line of blood drawn on the ground. The dead bull was being dragged on the ground and Don Gito was only watching the line of blood.
Fifty One: Under the Light Stain
Yerma
They brought Maria’s corpse today, Juan.
First Woman
Only broken bones and mangled flesh remain from all that youth and life, Julio.
Second Woman
Let me kiss you, Kurta. Let me feel that I’m still alive.
Yerma
I ask you, Julio, if we don’t want to cry for Maria then whom or what should we cry for in this land?
Third Woman
Hold me, Jose. Hold me till the cold seeps out of my heart.
Yerma
Whom am I to shed my tears for, Juan? What for?
Fourth Woman
Let me look at you again and again, Salvadore. How good it is to be alive!
Yerma
I cried for myself today, Juan. For myself when I realized I’m neither wife nor mother.
Fifth Woman
Tell the children to only laugh. Say something, Ignesia. I only want there to be some sound under this roof.
Yerma
I wish you had a chest on which I could place my head all my life, Juan. If there could only be an embrace in which I could pour my womanhood. Why am I nothing in spite of how much I search, Juan?
Fifty Two: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Wake women up when they sleep. When they’re awake put them to sleep. Make women get up when they’re sitting. Make them sit when they’re standing. Make women laugh when they’re crying. Make women cry when they’re laughing. Don’t let women get used to anything. Don’t let them get used to speaking. Don’t let women get used to their own business. Don’t let them do anything they want to do. Carry the world on your own shoulders. A world on women’s shoulders is not a good world.
Fifty Three: Under the Light Stain
First Woman
We’ve come to say we want to talk with you, Don Miguel.
Second Woman
We’ve come to ask how long Maria’s body has to lie on the ground, Don Miguel?
Third Woman
Don Miguel, we’ve come to say that the body of a woman must be buried in the cemetery and not out in the distant wilderness.
Fourth Woman
We’ve come to say that Maria was a mother, Don Miguel, and mothers should be buried next to their children.
Fifth Woman
We’ve come to ask what difference it makes how a woman dies, Don Miguel.
Sixth Woman
Don Miguel, we’ve come to say that you must be a woman to understand why a woman would do such a thing to herself.
Seventh Woman
We’ve come to say that burying a woman doesn’t change a thing in this world, Don Miguel.
Eighth Woman
We have come, Don Miguel, to ask if you will listen to us.
Fifty Four: Donna Maria Passes By
Donna Maria
Men quickly get used to everything. Don’t get accustomed to anything. Men always keep their habits. Don’t get used to anything. Men are happy with their habits. Don’t develop any habit. Don’t fight the habits of your men; change them gently. Don’t let your men know that they’re changing; change them slowly. Don’t ask your men if they would like to change; change them gracefully. Tell your men you like their habits; change them tenderly.
Fifty Five: Don Pietro Passes By
Don Pietro
Men never understand how much they change when they spend every day with a woman.
Fifty Six: Bar
Don Miguel
Have you ever seen how a colt is castrated, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
I have, Juan. I’ve seen many… They tie ropes to the colt’s arms and legs. Then they pull these ropes from all four sides and the cold is forced down onto the ground. Then they bring a hammer and an anvil. They put the colt’s balls on the anvil and they strike the balls a single blow with the hammer; just one blow… Do you know why it’s just one blow, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Because if the balls are not smashed with a single blow the colt will die with the second blow… Did you know that there isn’t a sound more terrifying than the scream of that colt?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Do you know why they castrate a colt, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
They want the colt to become big and strong, Juan. That way he can race well, further ahead than the others… Have you ever heard a castrated colt neigh, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
He fills the world with his neighing… Until that pain is experienced no colt can run so well in a race. This is the law of winning in competitions, Juan… You wouldn’t want to lose in a competition, would you, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
No one does, Juan… This place, this land has the role of that colt for us. It’s always ached in order to stay strong… Do you know who will defy the law and bury Maria’s body in the cemetery, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel places a dagger on the table.
Don Miguel
Juan, let’s allow things to stay as they’ve always been. You don’t want anything to change, do you, Juan?
Juan
No, Don Miguel.
Don Miguel
Great, Juan.
Don Miguel wants to leave.
Juan
Those colts become really good horses, don’t they, Don Miguel?
Don Miguel
Very good ones. It’s just too bad that they can’t breed.
Fifty Seven: Donna Maria Passes By
Love your men; fill your hearts with vengeance. Pour your love into your homes; leave your vengeance in the unsaid words behind your looks. Let your men get drunk on all that love in their homes. Let them fear the revenge in your breaths. It’s only with these breaths that men understand that there’s a woman constantly waiting in their homes: a woman who can give them either love or hate.
Fifty Eight: Under the Stain of Light
Don Miguel
Maria, Emporio, Lucia, Isabella, Carmina, you were all in my dream last night. There was a lot of dried blood on your hands. On your clothes was the red of blood. In the dark your eyes shone in a stare like a cat’s eyes. I was sleeping in my bed. My eyes were shut but I could see you all. I saw you Emporio, who had placed my feet in a pan of water. The water was cool, it was the coolest blue that can be found in this land. You were washing my feet, Maria. You were washing my feet and the pan was turning red from the blood of your hands. I wanted to wake up. I wanted to open my eyes. I couldn’t, Lucia. You were taking my clothes off, Lucia. I was naked before you all. You placed a white cloth on my face, Isabella. I could still see under that white cloth with closed eyes. I was naked, Isabella. I had never been so naked, Carmina. You, Carmina, stroked my body. You were washing me, Marianna. You washed my entire body. You, Empora, dressed me in white clothes that I had never possessed. You kissed my forehead. How warm that kiss you all placed on my forehead was!
Fifty Nine: Under the Stain of Light
Marina
My mouth is full of dirt, Juan. My eyes are full of dirt. There is nothing on my hands other than dirt, Juan. It’s in the layers of my clothes; in my shoes. There is dirt everywhere. This very solid, greedy dirt. Now where ever I look I only see dirt, Juan. I turn this dirt over with my hands, this very solid greedy dirt. I want to love this dirt even if I was never able to get any love. For the first time in my life I’m doing something, Juan. Something I want to do. Something I love to do. I have never been a mother, Juan. I might never be one but I am a woman even if no one understands this; even if you never understood it. Juan, I’m going to bury Maria next to her child; in this solid greedy dirt even if they pull her out a thousand times and throw her away. I will play with this dirt, Juan. I will breathe in it; I will speak to it. I will make it love. This land might become the land of love because of that piece of land where a mother lies buried. Maybe this land will learn to forgive through the hands that dig this piece of land. I am giving myself to this land, Juan. I give all the mothers of this land to this dirt; I give all the women of this land to this dirt. Let this dirt be our fathers, our husbands, our sons…
Juan
I want to cry , Yerma. I want to pour out all my tears, Yerma.
Yerma
Come, Juan. Come, put your head on my legs and cry.
Juan
I have always wanted to be a man, Yerma. I have always wanted to die like a man.
Yerma
There is something bitter in my throat, Juan. There is even more bitterness in my bones. Juan, I now believe in things that can be touched; in things that can be seen with the eyes. I now know the truth is always right here beside us. But wishes are far away, Juan, further than anything we might imagine. I will only look right here from now on. Juan, Victor was right, this is the land of bitterness: the land of aging among desires. Everything ages fast here, the women faster than anything else. I don’t want anything more from you, Juan, because there is nothing left for you to give. That’s why I don’t want a son of yours any more. I will now believe you are my son, Juan which is why you must die like a man, Juan. My son has to die like a man.
She plunges her dagger into Juan’s heart.
Yerma
Now, in this land I have something to lose an you have something to gain. Have you ever seen the dance of the mares, Juan? You have to see them dance… I have always danced like a mare in this world…
Juan
Don Gito died from the horns of a xxx bull today, Yerma. He really spilled Don Gito’s guts. Yerma, you should have been there. You should have seen Don Gito die. He died like a man; like a real man. The bull’s horns were in his stomach. In his stomach, but he raised his sword and plunged it into the bull’s neck. The bull died on the spot, Yerma. Right away. The crowd was screaming, Yerma. Blood poured forth from the bull. He squatted down on his knees in the middle of that blood, Yerma. Don Gito sat on his knees. Right next to the horns of that dead bull he did. Then ever so slowly he gathered his own guts off the ground and stuck them back inside his stomach. The crowd was roaring but it was like Don Gito couldn’t understand a thing. He was sitting there shoving everything back into his own stomach, Yerma. Then he got up and stood. Don Gito got up and stood straight. He was holding his guts inside himself with one hand so that they wouldn’t spill out. With his other hand he waved his white kerchief into the air and he walked around the ring that way. The crowd went crazy and Don Gito kept circling… Oh, Yerma, I have always wanted to die like a man.