A night of dancing and pleasures is interrupted abruptly Dancers slow more; less tapping feet avoid the rush of a gust That moves in a sweep across the limestone pavement Swinging children faster in the arms of old uncles and young aunts Where freckled hands will spatter to eat their kabobs The smoked ones with little meat - as their small stomachs grumble ferociously And little ones scramble across to be first in line When one little hat dashes across the celebration and giddy uncles find that One child who didn't tap his feet or clamp the hands of older relatives And older men and families hear welling in the itching windpipe of the child: "Mother, Mother."