Otomi Song of the Mexicans, An
I, the singer, polished my noble new song like a shining emerald, I arranged it like the voice of the tzinitzcan bird, I called to mind the essence of poetry, I set it in order like the chant of the zacuan bird, I mingled it with the beauty of the emerald, that I might make it appear like a rose bursting its bud, so that I might rejoice the Cause of All.
I skillfully arranged my song like the lovely feathers of the zacuan bird, the tzinitzcan and the quechol; I shall speak forth my song like the tinkling of golden bells; my song is that which the miaua bird pours forth around him; I lifted my voice and rained down flowers of speech before the face of the Cause of All.
In the true spirit of song I lifted my voice through a trumpet of gold, I let fall from my lips a celestial song, I shall speak notes precious and brilliant as those of the miaua bird, I shall cause to blossom out a noble new song, I lifted my voice like the burning incense of flowers, so that I the singer might cause joy before the face of the Cause of All.
The divine quechol bird answers me as I, the singer, sing, like the coyol bird, a noble new song, polished like a jewel, a turquoise, a shining emerald, darting green rays, a flower song of spring, spreading celestial fragrance, fresh with the dews of roses, thus have I the poet sung.
I colored with skill, I mingled choice roses in a noble new song, polished like a jewel, etc. (as in v. 4).
I was glorified, I was enriched, by the flower-sweet song as by the smoke of the poyomatl, my soul was contented, I trembled in spirit, I inhaled the sweetness, my soul was intoxicated, I inhaled the fragrance of delicious flowers in the place of riches, my soul was drunken with the flowers.
I skillfully arranged my song like the lovely feathers of the zacuan bird, the tzinitzcan and the quechol; I shall speak forth my song like the tinkling of golden bells; my song is that which the miaua bird pours forth around him; I lifted my voice and rained down flowers of speech before the face of the Cause of All.
In the true spirit of song I lifted my voice through a trumpet of gold, I let fall from my lips a celestial song, I shall speak notes precious and brilliant as those of the miaua bird, I shall cause to blossom out a noble new song, I lifted my voice like the burning incense of flowers, so that I the singer might cause joy before the face of the Cause of All.
The divine quechol bird answers me as I, the singer, sing, like the coyol bird, a noble new song, polished like a jewel, a turquoise, a shining emerald, darting green rays, a flower song of spring, spreading celestial fragrance, fresh with the dews of roses, thus have I the poet sung.
I colored with skill, I mingled choice roses in a noble new song, polished like a jewel, etc. (as in v. 4).
I was glorified, I was enriched, by the flower-sweet song as by the smoke of the poyomatl, my soul was contented, I trembled in spirit, I inhaled the sweetness, my soul was intoxicated, I inhaled the fragrance of delicious flowers in the place of riches, my soul was drunken with the flowers.
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