Another
What have you done, O you our friends, you Chiapanecs and Otomis, why have you grieved, that you were drunken with the wine which you took, that you were drunken? Come hither and sing; do not lie stretched out; arise, O friends, let us go to our houses here in this land of spring; come forth from your drunkenness, see in what a difficult place you must take it.
For formerly it was so on earth that the white wine was taken in difficult places, as on entering the battlefield, or, as it was said, where the stones were broken and destroyed, where were broken into fragments the lovely emeralds, the turquoises, the honored precious stones, the youths, the children; therefore take the flowery white wine, O friends and brothers.
Let us drink it in the flowery land, in our dwelling surrounded by the flowery earth and sky, where the fountains of the flowers send their sweetness abroad; the delicious breath of the dewy flowers is in our homes in Chiapas; there nobility and power make them glorious, and the war-flowers bloom over a fertile land.
Is it possible, oh friends, that you do not hear us? Let us go, let us go, let us pour forth the white wine, the wine of battle; let us drink where the wine sweet as the dew of roses is set forth in our houses, let our souls be intoxicated with its sweetness; enriched, steeped in delight, we shall soak up the water of the flowers in the place of riches, going forth to a land of flowers, a fertile spot. What have you done? Come hither and listen to our songs, O friends.
For formerly it was so on earth that the white wine was taken in difficult places, as on entering the battlefield, or, as it was said, where the stones were broken and destroyed, where were broken into fragments the lovely emeralds, the turquoises, the honored precious stones, the youths, the children; therefore take the flowery white wine, O friends and brothers.
Let us drink it in the flowery land, in our dwelling surrounded by the flowery earth and sky, where the fountains of the flowers send their sweetness abroad; the delicious breath of the dewy flowers is in our homes in Chiapas; there nobility and power make them glorious, and the war-flowers bloom over a fertile land.
Is it possible, oh friends, that you do not hear us? Let us go, let us go, let us pour forth the white wine, the wine of battle; let us drink where the wine sweet as the dew of roses is set forth in our houses, let our souls be intoxicated with its sweetness; enriched, steeped in delight, we shall soak up the water of the flowers in the place of riches, going forth to a land of flowers, a fertile spot. What have you done? Come hither and listen to our songs, O friends.
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