A Song Urging to War
It is a bitter grief to see so many of you, dear friends not walking with me in spirit on the earth, and written down with me; that no more do I walk in company to the joyful and pleasant spots; that nevermore in union with you do I journey to the same place.
Truly I doubt in my heart if I really see you, dear friends; Is there no one who will pray to the one only God that he take this error from your hearts? Is no one there? No one can live a second time on earth. Truly they live there within the heavens, there in a place of delight only.
At night rises up the smoke of the warriors, a delight to the Lord the Giver of Life; the shield-flower spreads abroad its leaves, marvelous deeds agitate the earth; here is the place of the fatal flowers of death which cover the fields.
The battle is there, the beginning of the battle is in the open fields, the smoke of the warriors winds around and curls upward from the slaughter of the flowery war, ye friends and warriors of the Chichimecs.
Let not my soul dread that open field; I earnestly desire the beginning of the slaughter, may thy soul long for the murderous strife.
O you who are there in the battle, I earnestly desire the beginning of the slaughter, may thy soul long for the murderous strife.
The cloud rises upward, rising into the blue sky of the Giver of Life; there blossom forth prowess and daring, there, in the battle field, come the children to maturity.
Let us rejoice, dear friends, and may ye rejoice, O children, within the open field, and going forth to it, let us revel amid the shield-flowers of the battle.
Truly I doubt in my heart if I really see you, dear friends; Is there no one who will pray to the one only God that he take this error from your hearts? Is no one there? No one can live a second time on earth. Truly they live there within the heavens, there in a place of delight only.
At night rises up the smoke of the warriors, a delight to the Lord the Giver of Life; the shield-flower spreads abroad its leaves, marvelous deeds agitate the earth; here is the place of the fatal flowers of death which cover the fields.
The battle is there, the beginning of the battle is in the open fields, the smoke of the warriors winds around and curls upward from the slaughter of the flowery war, ye friends and warriors of the Chichimecs.
Let not my soul dread that open field; I earnestly desire the beginning of the slaughter, may thy soul long for the murderous strife.
O you who are there in the battle, I earnestly desire the beginning of the slaughter, may thy soul long for the murderous strife.
The cloud rises upward, rising into the blue sky of the Giver of Life; there blossom forth prowess and daring, there, in the battle field, come the children to maturity.
Let us rejoice, dear friends, and may ye rejoice, O children, within the open field, and going forth to it, let us revel amid the shield-flowers of the battle.
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