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100. The Pulque Maker. Pulque like no other/ Romero knew how to make;/ He threw in rubbish/ And soapy water as well/ For this—he is now a calavera./ May he rest in peace, amen.
100. The Pulque Maker. Pulque like no other/ Romero knew how to make;/ He threw in rubbish/ And soapy water as well/ For this—he is now a calavera./ May he rest in peace, amen.

100. The Pulque Maker. Pulque like no other/ Romero knew how to make;/ He threw in rubbish/ And soapy water as well/ For this—he is now a calavera./ May he rest in peace, amen.

Alternate Titles
  • 100 Original Woodcuts by Posada
Artist (Mexican, 1852 - 1913)
Date1947
ClassificationsPrint
MediumColor woodcut
Dimensions3 1/8 x 2 3/4 in.
Credit LineGift of Jack Lord
Object number1973.122
94. Calavera of the Policeman. So strict in vigilance,/ So rigorous in duty,/ That he passed scoundrels by./ They made his job a good one!/ This, then, is the bony one;/ He ran this way and that./ And today the only sound he hears is,/ “Rest in peace, amen.”
94. Calavera of the Policeman. So strict in vigilance,/ So rigorous in duty,/ That he passed scoundrels by./ They made his job a good one!/ This, then, is the bony one;/ He ran this way and that./ And today the only sound he hears is,/ “Rest in peace, amen.”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
92. ¿Qué acaso por que soy Cura/ No he de estar en la verbena?/ Ahí les vas u responsito/ Con pulque de calavera.
92. ¿Qué acaso por que soy Cura/ No he de estar en la verbena?/ Ahí les vas u responsito/ Con pulque de calavera.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
9. Little Calavera. Run, Skinny, run./ Water is always harmful,/ Even in a bath./ After one is fifty/ He should not even wash.
9. Little Calavera. Run, Skinny, run./ Water is always harmful,/ Even in a bath./ After one is fifty/ He should not even wash.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
70. Politician. Politician Matienso’s wife— /How well she knows her husband!/ He only has to say, “I think....”/ And she brings him food at once,
70. Politician. Politician Matienso’s wife— /How well she knows her husband!/ He only has to say, “I think....”/ And she brings him food at once,
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
Image Not Available for 12. All Hallow’s Eve. At last the day of all the dead has arrive,/ On which they rejoice, replete with pleasures without number./ In place of sad mourning for ourselves,/ Let us, with laughs and pulque, go cry in our cups.
12. All Hallow’s Eve. At last the day of all the dead has arrive,/ On which they rejoice, replete with pleasures without number./ In place of sad mourning for ourselves,/ Let us, with laughs and pulque, go cry in our cups.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
47. The Poultry Vendor. “Buy chickens, Mister.”/ They hawk their merchandise./ Poor little Indian!/ If he does make a sale,/ The buyer even will demand/ That he pluck the chicken clean.
47. The Poultry Vendor. “Buy chickens, Mister.”/ They hawk their merchandise./ Poor little Indian!/ If he does make a sale,/ The buyer even will demand/ That he pluck the chicken clean.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
83. Harangue. He who wishes to live at peace,/ Without snares or jealousies or quarrels,/ Should neither drink, nor smoke, nor gamble,/ Nor marry a beautiful woman.
83. Harangue. He who wishes to live at peace,/ Without snares or jealousies or quarrels,/ Should neither drink, nor smoke, nor gamble,/ Nor marry a beautiful woman.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
2. Politics. Said a leader earnestly:/ “As they paint it, I jump it,/ “And even if they didn’t, I would jump;/ “For he how lags, loses.”
2. Politics. Said a leader earnestly:/ “As they paint it, I jump it,/ “And even if they didn’t, I would jump;/ “For he how lags, loses.”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
19. Portrait of a Teacher. Martyr to teaching!/ He taught me well—/ Doctor! Artist! Learned Man!/ In his day there were teachers!
19. Portrait of a Teacher. Martyr to teaching!/ He taught me well—/ Doctor! Artist! Learned Man!/ In his day there were teachers!
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
42. The Garbage Man. Give Way! Space and more space!/ On a bell-shaped truck he sits;/ The garbage is passing by—/ And he leaves me, a bell-shaped hollow.
42. The Garbage Man. Give Way! Space and more space!/ On a bell-shaped truck he sits;/ The garbage is passing by—/ And he leaves me, a bell-shaped hollow.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
75. The Editor’s Reward. Having given us his best,/ He gets only criticism;/ Better— he should hear/ The heavenly flutes of angels.
75. The Editor’s Reward. Having given us his best,/ He gets only criticism;/ Better— he should hear/ The heavenly flutes of angels.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
21. Poetaster. Publishing my little verses;/ To raise a monument to me after death./ How affable!/ Rather, since I am alive,/ Pay your pennies now—/ That I may pay for beans.
21. Poetaster. Publishing my little verses;/ To raise a monument to me after death./ How affable!/ Rather, since I am alive,/ Pay your pennies now—/ That I may pay for beans.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947