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"They had scribes for each branch of knowledge.”
-- Ixtiuxochiti, a brother of the last native ruler of Texcoco

“The poets spoke or sang units of meaning – bundles of sound assembled into one long phrase in which the word elements were so fused as to be merely tribatory elements to a single, precise symbol or meaning.”
– Edward Kissam, Poems of the Aztec People

In Xóchitl in Cuicatl – Flower and Song



Call/Response
i.
I am come
from the ocean
waves
where water is dyed
with the morning.

ii.
(I am just
a singer.
My heart
is a flower!
I offer – my song.)

i.
I am from the rainland,
come to please the deity!

ii.
(I am just
a singer.
My heart
is a flower!
I offer – my song.)

------------

How do they fall? How do they fall?
These hearts, ripe fruit for harvest.

Look at them,
these fall, the hearts –
oh our arrows
these fall, the hearts –
oh our arrows


emeralds and
flowers fall
like rain –
your song!
as you are singing

in Mexico

the sun is shining!

---------------------------
The butterfly
sipping:
the flower
my open heart,
friends,
a fragrant flower.

Date: 2003-05-08 08:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ex-sexus973.livejournal.com

That just made my morning even more happy! Thanks!

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