A Song of Lamentation
The sweet voiced quechol there, ruling the earth, has intoxicated my soul.
I am like the quetzal bird, I am created in the house of the one only God; I sing sweet songs among the flowers; I chant songs and rejoice in my heart
The fuming dew-drops from the flowers in the field intoxicate my soul.
I grieve to myself that ever this dwelling on earth should end.
I foresaw, being a Mexican, that our rule began to be destroyed, I went forth weeping that it was to bow down and be destroyed.
Let me not be angry that the grandeur of Mexico is to be destroyed.
The smoking stars gather together against it; the one who cares for flowers is about to be destroyed.
He who cared for books wept, he wept for the beginning of the destruction.
I am like the quetzal bird, I am created in the house of the one only God; I sing sweet songs among the flowers; I chant songs and rejoice in my heart
The fuming dew-drops from the flowers in the field intoxicate my soul.
I grieve to myself that ever this dwelling on earth should end.
I foresaw, being a Mexican, that our rule began to be destroyed, I went forth weeping that it was to bow down and be destroyed.
Let me not be angry that the grandeur of Mexico is to be destroyed.
The smoking stars gather together against it; the one who cares for flowers is about to be destroyed.
He who cared for books wept, he wept for the beginning of the destruction.
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