Woodpecker

poem by Ruth Salles

Watercolor by Mônica Stein Aguiar.

Dawn, there in the woods
The knock can be heard:
pica-pica, pica-pica,
drums the woodpecker.

Go up, up, up the trunk,
punch, hop…
Does the hollow fall? What's rotten?
Does the soft-soft trunk fall?

“Ri-di-di-co!” “Chan-cha!”
“Cri-cri!” “Bi-i-irro!”
Laugh, Scream, Scream
preparing the pickaxe.

with colored tuft
shining under the sun,
when you call your partner
gentle tambourine:
bump, bump…

Look at the nest! Look at the nest!
Here she comes, she comes flying,
waving through the air.
Dawn, there in the woods,
the woodpecker can already be heard:
bump, bump…
“Ri-di-di-co!” “Chan-cha!”

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