Song of Atamalcualoyan
Author unknown, originally created in Náhuatl. Translated by Choleric Serpent from the Spanish.
The Song of Atamalcualoyan
My heart sprouts halfway through the night.
Our mother has come, the goddess Tlazoltéotl has come.
The God of Maize was born in Tamoanchan,
In the land of flowers.
The God of Maize was born in the land of rain and mist,
Where the children of men are made,
Where precious fish are come by.
The day is about to glow, dawn is about to rise:
The cornucopia of precious birds drink,
In the land of flowers.
Oh, prince Quetzalcóatl!
Here on earth, you walk in the plaza.
Let there be cheer next to the blooming tree,
Rejoice cornucopia of precious birds.
Hear the word of our god: hear the word of the precious Bird:
We must not shoot from the blowpipe against our dead.
Oh, I shall bring my flowers!
the red ones like our flesh, the aromatic white ones.
Play ball, play old Xólotl’s ball.
He plays on the enchanted pitch,
Inside a groove of jade.
See if the Child-God is set
In the mansion of the night.
Oh, child! You are bedecked in yellow feathers;
You take your place on the pitch
In the mansion of the night.
The one from Oztoman, ruled by Xochiquétzal, rules Cholula.
He possesses crabs, his wares are earrings and bracelets of jade.
I tremble that the God of Maize will not come.
You who sleeps, sleep.
I who sleeps has wound woman here in my hand.
The poem, originally created in Náhuatl, has been translated by Choleric Serpent, from the Spanish rendition, “Canto de Atamalcualoyan,” published in the second edition of Antología de la Poesía Hispanoamericana, edited by Julio Caillet-Bois, and published by Aguilar, Madrid, 1965. This book was found in a public bookshelf in Inwood, New York City, in the summer of 2023.