Banquito “For the maqtillus Carapa community, who are still running with his hat in his hand and unruly hair waved in the communal areas Pastoqata. For the villagers of the two districts of Carapo, whom carries with tenderness, faith and hope. “Malaysian Oh life! waychaw, your song is malaguero early riser, he pronounced the disaster. Ya, and stops singing hagues not grow in my heart off. The sky was black, and almost without light, cloudy. In the green, on the edge of the distant hills would wake up the clouds, like a soft cotton Paqchapunku tended everywhere hiding the frigid fields and animals.
It’s almost morning began with rain, some maqtillus and heading to Pastoqata, Dona Maria and walked looking at his cows, chasing the yutus (partridge) early risers who dug up freshly planted maize. The black sky is not scared. Morning was bright, cheerful sing yours in the peach, the Thrush pecking into the wet ground with their sharp beaks caught worms. Throughout roads lead to the villagers of chores, from the top of the hill, is the entire village. I like a hawk from the top perceived the wide open field and since then I heard the melodic whistle of a boy in love, was Aristides, so hasty Qotawatiri approached, he also came in search of his bulls to Pastoqata, common hill people. Aristides is the only one: the parrot from the gorge, noisy, friend of the maqtillus, has the distinct whistle, it is proper, strong, since it is clear the distant hills.