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62. Mess Call. Mess Call! Mess call!/ You shameless ones in barracks/ Now your “grub” awaits you;/ But if war should come—/ You’ll find a change!
62. Mess Call. Mess Call! Mess call!/ You shameless ones in barracks/ Now your “grub” awaits you;/ But if war should come—/ You’ll find a change!

62. Mess Call. Mess Call! Mess call!/ You shameless ones in barracks/ Now your “grub” awaits you;/ But if war should come—/ You’ll find a change!

Alternate Titles
  • 100 Original Woodcuts by Posada
Artist (Mexican, 1852 - 1913)
Date1947
ClassificationsPrint
MediumColor woodcut
DimensionsImage area: 3 3/16 x 2 3/4 in. (8.1 x 7 cm) Sheet: 9 3/16 x 6 5/16 in. (23.3 x 16 cm)
Credit LineGift of Jack Lord
Object number1973.23.62
33. Honorable Man. Before you see me in the jail-house,/ Among dishonored men— /I’d rather you would find me/ Empailed on the horns of a bull.
33. Honorable Man. Before you see me in the jail-house,/ Among dishonored men— /I’d rather you would find me/ Empailed on the horns of a bull.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
41. Calavera of the Tailor. You made fine clothes,/ You cut them stylishly/ For men of all habits and ways of life./ You made all kinds;/ Trousers and drawers,/ With buttons and with eyelets;/ And you departed this world, friend tailor,/ To the improvement of your memory/ Among your swindled clients.
41. Calavera of the Tailor. You made fine clothes,/ You cut them stylishly/ For men of all habits and ways of life./ You made all kinds;/ Trousers and drawers,/ With buttons and with eyelets;/ And you departed this world, friend tailor,/ To the improvement of your memory/ Among your swindled clients.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
32. Unrequited Love. You loved me!— So you told me./ Who was it who loved first?/ When I loved, you did not— /And now that you do, I do not.
32. Unrequited Love. You loved me!— So you told me./ Who was it who loved first?/ When I loved, you did not— /And now that you do, I do not.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
88. The Unwashed. Black is your face,/ Black is your skin, your nails;/ Black is your very soul,/ Because you never bathe.
88. The Unwashed. Black is your face,/ Black is your skin, your nails;/ Black is your very soul,/ Because you never bathe.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
71. Maturity. My visage strikes you, young man,/ As a vexatious reprimand;/ But when your years have passed fifty/ You will know just what it means.
71. Maturity. My visage strikes you, young man,/ As a vexatious reprimand;/ But when your years have passed fifty/ You will know just what it means.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
6. Late Reveler. Little lamp that lights my street,/ Now that I am seeing double,/ Why is it you are hiding?/ Or is it you who blocks my way?
6. Late Reveler. Little lamp that lights my street,/ Now that I am seeing double,/ Why is it you are hiding?/ Or is it you who blocks my way?
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
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
"Isn't this something we don't believe in?", "It's one Hell of a mess.", "Cheer up, there's a light ahead.", "Don't they know who we are?"
"Isn't this something we don't believe in?", "It's one Hell of a mess.", "Cheer up, there's a light ahead.", "Don't they know who we are?"
Alan Dunn
1960
95. Sharp Trader. Speak not of “honesty”;/ All talk through their hats— / And so do you!/ Let the buyer beware.../ One must live,/ And, you are a cheat!
95. Sharp Trader. Speak not of “honesty”;/ All talk through their hats— / And so do you!/ Let the buyer beware.../ One must live,/ And, you are a cheat!
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
20. The Petulant Dolphin. Said a dolphin, criticized,/ “Do you read music?—/ “Nor do I./ “As David said:/ “There’s your harp,/ “Play it yourself!”
20. The Petulant Dolphin. Said a dolphin, criticized,/ “Do you read music?—/ “Nor do I./ “As David said:/ “There’s your harp,/ “Play it yourself!”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
45. The Hard-headed Merchant. I became rich quickly./ How? As a merchant (now you know);/ And, it wasn’t because of flattery;/ I haven’t a foolish hair on my head.
45. The Hard-headed Merchant. I became rich quickly./ How? As a merchant (now you know);/ And, it wasn’t because of flattery;/ I haven’t a foolish hair on my head.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947