Dressed in their best festival finery…
The Catrinas have begun arriving in town…
You see them loitering on street corners…
Hanging out on balconies (I think she’s in drag)…
All the better to see and be seen.
However, in the end, no matter how fancy their finery and glittery their jewels, as José Guadalupe Posada wrote,
La muerte es democrática, ya que a fin de cuentas, güera, morena, rica o pobre, toda la gente acaba siendo calavera
(Death is democratic, because after all, light-skin, brown, rich or poor, everyone ends up being a skull)
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