THE POETRY OF PRE-LITERATE PEOPLES
An unpublished anthology gathered by Kenneth Rexroth (ca. 1975)
Part 3: Central and South America
Nahuatl (Aztec)
Otomi
Quiche (Mayan)
Cakohiquel
Quechua (Inca)
Jivaro
Nahuatl (Aztec)
[1]
Song of the Verdant Season
I am playing my drum, I who am learned in song.
With it I open their eyes,
with it I raise the spirits
of our friends:
those who have not achieved wisdom,
in whom it has not dawned, within their hearts;
those who, as concerning war, lie in the stupor of death,
in whom is the night of deep darkness glorified.
In vain I say this, for it is painful!
Listen to the flowery song of dawn.
Once more it rains, trembling, beside the drums.
The divine gardens of sunrise
are blossoming:
rain of flowers at war,
flowers of the Lord of the Near and Close.
Fragrant curds of dew
glitter like the sun,
most pleasing to the soul.
Come all, and look upon them,
for if they are not valued, they will perish:
they will have flowered in vain
if none desired them, no, not even one.
O my friends,
do not let the flowers — the flowers of life — depart in vain:
the painted flowers curdled with nectar.
Hearts are made drunk with life.
Only there do they bloom,
only there do they open their petals,
in the tree-covered mountains
and the rugged plains
where is the sacrifice of war,
in the hallowed water and the bonfire's heat,
in the place where the old Eagles are dappled,
in the place where the Tigers roar,
where the many-colored peerless jewels rain,
where the waves are, the rich tufts of fine feathers.
Here they were broken.
and here were the princes sundered.
Sturdy are those princes
who long for the gardens of sunrise.
There is an opening through which to propitiate
Him who is in Heaven, the Abiding One.
He is the prince who causes it to rain
princes Eagles and Tigers.
He makes the flowers bloom
and imbues them with the dew of living flowers.
While you are doubting, friends,
you will long in vain for the flowers of the earth.
How could you possibly pick them or create them?
When you look upon the princes with disdain and suspicion,
you suffer.
Come,
fill you eyes with flowers and song.
How lightheartedly do all the princes
shoot at one another with arrows!
In the midst of the plain
they are beautifying themselves in the image of
gilded birds, guacamayas, green-black thrushes, red parrots.
With the shield flower,
with the flower of the Eagle's tatters,
the princes are proving themselves manly.
With luxuriant necklaces of wild clover
they are adorning their breasts.
They make glory out of the beautiful songs, the beautiful flowers.
The price of this is to bleed, to be made strong.
They refresh the hallowed water and the burning fire.
Now are friends drawing near.
Warriors on the great road,
gird yourselves and your shields well, stand erect.
You are created Eagle Tiger.
[2]
In the Midst of Rejoicing, the Fishes Speak
We, the golden fishes, lack one thing:
We have no song.
Within the water, we long
to be as the brilliant turtledove
which has at his [illegible word] such rich bells
and with them sings to the One God.
And this makes us weep.
What joy you might have,
you fish of the [illegible word], and you minnow,
if only the Bishop could celebrate with us.
Yet even so we are creatures of God.
I, fish of the bullrushes, sigh.
O my Great Chief, Lord over the turtle!
How we long to be like our brothers
the waterfly
or the hornet
who makes so much noise!
How lovely their song is!
Only the green frog answers them
from the leafy pad of the lentil.
O friends, how wretched we are,
what offenses have we done to God that we are not edible? [audible?]
You, the water beetle,
and you, the water moth,
how happy you all are, yellow dragonfly
and tiny shrimp!
Now we are pricking up our ears to discover
which path to take through the green water-moss!
[3]
When I suffer, I gather strength.
Surely in the Place of the Fleshless
the answer will be known.
Perhaps we shall all be reunited.
Till then, let our hearts be at rest.
Therefore I dress
in a necklace of sorrowful flowers.
I hold in my hands flowers
which are the coat of arms of my sighs.
I chant a sad song.
I bring as an offering a song
lovely as an emerald necklace.
With garlands of sweet-scented flowers
I gird my emerald drum;
from the inner heaven I let my song fall in a cluster.
I, singer, wrest it from the dwellers in heaven,
from the gilded bird, the greenish-black, the red bird,
from the guacamayas who talk and give pleasure to the Lord of All.
[4]
Song of the Corn God, Cintéotl
Flower is my heart; she opens her petals.
Behold, she is ruler of Midnight.
Now is our Mother come:
now comes the Goddess Tlazoltéotl.
The Corn-Cob God was born in Tamoanchan
where the flowers are erect.
The Corn-Cob God was born amid water and mist
where the sons of men are created,
where are they that possess fishes of jade.
Now is the sun about to shine
and the dawn arises,
and now the various red birds
go drinking honey in the flowers
where the flowers stand erect.
Thou art erect on earth
near the marketplace:
Thou art the Lord, Thou art Quetzalcóatl.
Take thy pleasure beside the blossoming trees;
listen to the various redbreasted birds.
Our god is singing, listen.
Now sing the redbreasted birds: O listen!
Can it be our dead one
who is singing?
Can it be he who is about to fall into the trap?
I shall refresh my flowers with the wind.
I am the flower of the corn, the flower of the toasted corn
where the flowers stand erect.
[5]
Beautifully illumined is the book of songs:
as the quetzal feathers burst from it,
the beautiful song bends toward the earth.
From the house of flowering butterflies
was the song born;
I hear it come to life, I, the singer.
It wanders in aquatic flower beds,
wanders flying, the peerless firefly of the gods.
With its wings gold-streaked it flies over the water.
Beside the drums, in spring,
the song's zephyr goes on forever.
[6]
Song of Cacamatzin, Last King of Tezcoco
When, Seeing the Great Works, He Remembers
the Power of His Elders
of His Father and Grandfather
Listen, my friends:
No one can walk about claiming to be royalty!
They too will be forgotten
They too will perish at their proper time
from earth!
I was thinking yesterday
of the naked and penniless
how they ask:
“Is this way human?”
“Is this way discreet?”
But I judge for myself.
Everyone will tell you how to live
but no one tells the truth.
For reaches out over the land:
the trumpets sound
Flowers scatter everywhere
causing delight
It's surely like this in his House
in Spring
the fresh greenness of quetzal
blending with flowers:
he who makes everything live.
There where the jade drum sounds
and jade flutes echo
It is the love of the owner of heaven
whose red necklaces
tremble on the earth
Mist on the shield's edge:
a rain of arrows
and a sky circled with flowers.
As we prepare the dance for him
the sky is loud with gold shield
I, alone, remember King Nezahualpilli . . .
I, Cacamatzin
Perhaps he and Nezahualcojotl
speak together beside the drums!
Truly, who will not go to the far beyond?
If I were jade, if I were gold
would I not go to the far beyond?
If by chance I am a shield of turquoise
must I not be restored in mosaic?
Must I be again?
Will I be wrapped in fine blankets?
Here beside the drums
I remember those kings!
[7]
Song of Coatliene, Mother of the Gods
The Goddess is upon the rounded cactus:
she is our Mother, Obsidian Butterfly.
O, let us look upon her.
She is fed upon stag's hearts in the Nine Plains.
She is our Mother, Queen of the Earth,
with fresh [illegible word], with fresh plumage she is clad.
At the four corners of the earth were javalins broken.
Oh, into a deer she is converted.
Over the stony ground Xiuhnelli and Mimich
come to behold her.
[8]
I? Who am I?
Songs I make,
and butterflies of song.
They bloom in my soul
so that my heart may taste them.
[9]
Song to Xipe
Drinker in the night,
Why do you insist on praying?
Don your disguise,
Put on your garment of gold.
Oh, my god, you precious-jewelled water
have descended;
he has become transformed, the tall cypress,
into a quetzal bird;
the serpent of fire
has been transformed into a serpent of quetzal.
The serpent of fire has set me free.
Perhaps I shall vanish and be destroyed, I,
the tender corn shoot.
My heart is green
like a precious jewel,
but I shall yet see the gold
and shall rejoice if the war chief
has matured, if he has been born.
Oh my god, grant that at least
a few corn shoots
put out fruit in abundance;
your servant turns his gaze toward your mountain,
toward you,
I shall rejoice if something matures first, if I can say
the war chief has been born.
[10]
All this befell us. We saw it, we wondered.
We found ourselves afflicted with ill fortune.
On the roads lie broken arrows.
Hairs are torn out.
The houses are roofless,
Their walls reddened.
Worms multiply in the streets and squares,
Brains are spattered on the walls.
The waters are red as if stained,
And when we drink it is as if we drank salt water.
Meanwhile we laid low the adobe walls
And our heritage was a net full of holes.
Shields protected it,
But even shields could not preserve its solitude!
We have eaten of the stalk of the coral tree,
We have chewed salty couch grass,
Lumps of adobe, lizards, mice, the dust of the earth, worms . . .
Otomi
[11]
In the sky, a moon:
in your face, a mouth.
In the sky, many stars:
in your face, only a pair of eyes.
[12]
These lovely flowers
and lovely songs
destroy the soul,
destroy the mind.
Quiché (Mayan)
[13]
The Coming of the Dawn
Here, then, is the dawn.
Balam-Quitze, Balam-Acab, Mahucutah, and Iqui-Balam
were very happy when they saw the Morning Star.
It rose first, with shining face, when it came ahead of the sun.
Immediately they unwrapped the incense which they had
planned to burn,
And then they untied the three gifts they had planned to offer.
The incense which Balam-Quitze brought was called Maxtan-Pom;
The incense which Balam-Acab brought was called Cavixtan-Pom;
And that which Mahucutah brought was called Cabauil-Pom.
The three had their incense and burned it when they began to dance,
Facing toward the East.
They wept for joy as they danced and burned their
incense,
Their precious incense. Then they wept
Because they did not yet behold nor see the sunrise.
But the, the sun came up. The small and large animals
were happy;
And arose from the banks of the river, in the ravines,
And on the tops of the mountains,
And all turned their eyes to where the sun was rising.
Then the puma and the jaguar roared.
But first the bird called Queletzu burst into song.
In truth, all the animals were happy, and the eagle,
the white vulture;
The small birds and the large birds stretched their wings.
[14]
Supplication
Oh you, beauty of the day! You, Huracan;
You, Heart of Heaven and of Earth!
You, giver of richness, and giver of the daughters and the sons!
Turn toward us your power and your riches;
Grant life and growth unto us sons and vassals: let those
Who must maintain and nourish you multiply and increase;
Those who invoke you on the roads, in the fields, on the banks of
rivers,
In the ravines, under the trees, under the vines.
Give them daughters and sons.
Let them not meet disgrace, nor misfortune,
Let not the deceiver come behind or before them.
Let them not fall, let them not be wounded, let them not fornicate,
Nor be condemned by justice.
Let them not fall on the descent or on the ascent of the road.
Let them not encounter obstacles back of them or before them,
Nor anything which strikes them.
Grant them good roads, beautiful, level roads.
Let them not have misfortune, nor disgrace, through your fault,
Through your sorceries.
Grant a good life to those who must give you
sustenance
And place food in your mouth, in your presence.
To you, Heart of Heaven, Heart of Earth, Bundle of Majesty,
And you, Tohil; you, Avilix, you, Hacauitz, Arch of the Sky,
Surface of the Earth, the Four Corners, the Four Cardinal Points.
Let there be but peace and tranquility in your mouth,
In your presence, O God!
[15]
This is the account of how all was in suspense, all
calm, in silence;
All motionless, still, and the expanse of the sky was empty.
This is the first account, the first narrative. There was neither
Man, nor animal, birds, fishes, crabs, trees, stones, caves,
Ravines, grasses, nor forests;
There was only the sky.
The surface of the earth had not appeared.
There was only the calm sea and the great espanse of the sky.
There was nothing brought together, nothing which could make a noise,
Nor anything which might move, or tremble,
Or could make a noise in the sky.
There was nothing standing; only the calm water,
The placid sea, alone and tranquil.
Nothing existed.
There was only immobility and silence in the darkness, in the night.
Only the Creator, the Maker, Tepeu, Gucumatz, the Forefathers,
Were in the water surrounded with light.
They were hidden under green and blue feathers,
And were therefore called Gucumatz.
By nature they were great sages and great thinkers.
In this manner the sky existed and also the Heart of Heaven,
Which is the name of God and thus He is called.
Cakchiquel
[16]
Immediately the divination began.
An animal called “the guard of the ravine” came to sing
At the gates of Tulan, when we went forth from Tulan.
”You will die, you will be vanquished, I am your oracle,”
The animal said to us. “Do you not beg us for mercy?
Truly you shall be deserving of pity!”
Thus the animal spoke to us, so they say.
Then another animal called Tucur, [? spelling
unclear]
Who had perched on the top of a red tree, began to sing,
And he spoke to us also, saying: “I am your oracle.”
“You are not our oracle, as you pretend,” we replied to this owl.
There were also messengers who came to give us the idols
Of stone and of wood,
Our fathers and forefathers said in the olden time.
Afterwards another animal sang in the sky,
The one called a parakeet,
And he said also: “I am your evil omen, you shall die!
But we said to this animal: “Be silent,
You are no more than the sign of summer.
You begin to sing when the summer comes
And after the rains cease; then you sing.”
Thus we told him.
Quechua (Inca)
[17]
Threshing Song
Guavas, guavas, guavas,
unmarried girl would you like,
guavas, guavas, guavas,
unmarried girl would you like.
Ay sweet lime of my memories
you have talked with another in my absence,
in what ravine have you talked,
in what ravine have you conversed.
By night we will meet one another,
when it shall be black, we will meet one another,
may God grant you should want
for us to meet my night.
You have spoken with a knife,
you have spoken with a razor,
just here, just here, we will go round,
just here, just here, we will tumble down,
We will tread on it, we will tread on it,
we will strike, we will strike,
face, with our face,
until the finish, we will tread on it, we will tread on it.
[18]
Snow Storm
You will say whether now is the hour of return,
storm of water and of snow,
you will say whether now is the hour to return by the way we came,
storm of water and of snow.
Bull with eyes of blood, cat-like bull,
storm of water and of snow,
you were the one that bled my house,
storm of water and of snow.
And I myself separated you from the mountain,
storm or water and of snow,
and you yourself bleed me,
storm of water and of snow.
And who is that skillful horseman?
storm of water and of snow,
he has passed like the wind, he has conquered me,
storm of water and of snow.
He is the owner of the cat-like bull that killed,
storm of water and of snow,
he asks that they give him the white packsaddle,
storm of water and of snow.
Carry me from here, pull me on to our parents' home,
storm of water and of snow,
it is the hour to return, drag me now!
storm of water and of snow.
[19]
When You Find Yourself Alone
When you find yourself alone on the river island
your father will not be there to call to you
alas, my daughter!
your mother cannot reach you there with [missing word?]
alas, my daughter!
The royal drake alone is there to walk at night with
yoou
with the rain in his eyes,
with his tears of blood,
the rain in his eyes
tears of blood.
And the royal drake, even, must go away
when the waves of the river
become strong,
when the waves of the river
rush headlong.
But then I will go to walk at night with you,
singing:
I will rob you of your young heart on the island,
your young heart
I must steal.
[20]
Flying High in the Air
It is falling on my village, the rain,
she is weeping, my love,
behind the mountain.
It is falling on my village, the rain,
her sky is dark with storm,
behind the mountain.
If I could be a kestrel!
I would fly over the rain, I would pass by the mountain,
from the clouds I would call to her,
Do not cry now, love!
If I could be a falcon!
Flying high in the air,
from the sky I would call,
Do not cry now, love!
[21]
Crystalline river
of the alders,
tears
of the fish of gold,
flood of tears
of the great precipices.
Deep river
of the tara forests,
that which is lost
in the bend of the abyss,
that which shrieks
in the cleft where the parrots have their haunt,
Far, far,
beloved river,
carry me
with my young lover
in the midst of the rocks
among the clouds of rain.
[22]
The Bird That Hides Itself
The bird that hides itself
when we call on the great barren plains
is crying, is moaning,
it seeks the tall grass and it cries,
poor pukucha!
And night is approaching,
dark clouds are galloping,
presently the great snow comes,
ay poor pukucha!
[23]
That She May Not Find Dew
Vicuna of the hills, deer of the mountains,
tell me if the ungrateful dove passed here,
the dove that left her nest,
that forgot her love.
Vicuna of the hills, stag of the mountains,
come see how my eyes are crying,
thus she left me, with my eyes crying,
thus she left me, with my heart wounded.
Oh that she may be thirsty on the road!
and that she my not find dew on the haystacks,
that she may not find dew on the grasses,
that she may be thirsty on every road,
the dove that forgot her love!
[24]
You Were Crying Alone, Little Duck
From the summit I saw you crying,
eagle of the sky,
you were crying alone,
in your solitude you were crying,
eagle of the sky.
Ay, to be an eagle and to cry alone!
From across the river I saw you crying,
little duck,
you were crying alone on the bank of the river,
it was cold and you were crying,
little duck,
on the other bank of the river.
Then I talked to you
about making a nest together,
not to be so alone, we two.
My father comes first,
you said to me,
even my mother.
You were lying,
little duck,
your father has died and is resting,
you mother cries in strange towns.
Little duck,
leave, now, your solitude
on the other bank of the river!
You were crying alone
on the rock,
sorrowful eagle. You were crying alone
on the bank of the river,
little duck.
Jivaro
[25]
Sung by a man to his enemies when he believes that they are about to attack:
I am like an anaconda.
No one can get near my house
Because there is a lake around it.
I am a jaguar,
The bravest that is,
And no one
Can get near my house.
[26]
For me it is very easy
To spin yarn,
For I am a man-spider.
I am a man-spider.
Therefore I am adept.
My hand is like the hand
Of a spider.
Because of this
I make the spindle hum.
[27]
I am a woman of Nunui.
Therefore I sing,
So that the manioc will grow well.
For when I do not sing,
There is not much production.
I am of Nunui.
Therefore I harvest faster than others.
[28]
Don't suck the blood of my husband
And don't suck the blood of my daughter.
When you want to suck blood,
Suck the blood of my enemies.
When my husband comes,
He will look very beautiful and very clear.
But when our enemies come,
They will look very pale
And in the form of demons,
And you will know
Who will die,
Who will die.
And when they enter this garden,
They will have their blood sucked.
All, all I can call,
Even the plantain itself.
I am a woman of Nunui.
[29]
When I die
You will look for young men.
But while I live
Put more beer
In this beautiful bowl.
Let us dance, my little wife.
[30]
Dear mother, dear mother
Come soon, come soon.
The baby is crying,
The baby is crying.
For lack of your milk,
It will die.
For lack of your milk,
It will die.
Dear mother, come quickly,
Dear mother, come quickly.
The little monkey is singing,
The little monkey is singing.
[31]
Why are you so near to me?
For they will come after us.
This other one
Who came very close
Caused me to boil.
It would be better if you
Got farther away.
And what is your name?
I'm going to be sleeping here on a bed.
[32]
I asked her,
“Where are you going?”
She answered me, saying,
”I go deep into the eastern forest.”
That is what she told me.
By the way,
Another truth is that a stone can talk!
[33]
Song of a man making the trip to encounter an arutam, or vision:
I go where there is a great waterfall.
It emerges where the mountains become stone.
This waterfall will give me strength.
I hope that with this long journey
I shall have an encounter
In order to have a very long life.
[34]
To Expel the Spirit from the Shrunken Head
Now, now, go back to your house where you lived.
Your wife is there calling you from your house.
You have come here to make us happy.
Finally we have finished.
So return.
[35]
Shaman Curing Songs
1.
I, I, I, I, I,
I, I, I, I,
I am like Tsuni.
I am like Tsuni.
When I drink natema*
All my body becomes cold.
And I easily suck out the tsentsak.**
I, I, I, I.
[*A hallucinogenic drink.]
[**Magical dart used in witchcraft to kill a man or
make him ill.]
2.
I am always above the clouds,
And thus I have power.
I drink natema,
I drink enough to have power.
All my body is cold.
Therefore I have power to suck out the tsentsak.
I, I, I, I.
3.
There is a very large body of water.
Thus I am like a great body of water.
I have a crown, but of gold,
Brilliant.
How beautiful it appears
When I drink natema.
Therfore it is easy to suck out the tsentsak.
I, I, I, I.
4.
I am always above the clouds.
Therefore I cure easily.
I have the tsentsak of natema.
I am seated, but I am very cold
And there are many breezes.
I, I, I, I.
5.
My tsentsak are like birds
And the wings and bodies are dreams.
With these I am now ready.
My tsentsak are sitting all over me
And as I become cold
I shall have power.
I can easily suck out the tsentsak.
I, I, I, I.
6.
I am like some panü of the Rio Napo.
Therefore I have power to suck out tsentsak.
I, I, I, I.
Wait, wait a moment.
Now I am going to become dizzy.
I will see when I am intoxicated.
[36]
Tsantsa* Feast Circle Dance Song
Today, today, let us greet the
dawn only playing.
Today, today, let us greet the dawn only playing.
Chuwi** tells me,
Chuwi tells me
We are going to greet the dawn playing.
Chuwi tells me,
Chuwi tells me
We are going to greet the dawn.
And they taught me previously,
I cannot sleep easily,
And I will meet the dawn together with Chuwi.
And don't you sleep!
And don't you sleep!
For now it is dawning, for now it is dawning.
[*A shrunken head.]
[**The name of the victim.]
SOURCES
1-5. Irene Nicholson, Firefly in the Night: A Study of Ancient Mexican Poetry and Symbolism. New York, 1959.
6. Translation from Spanish by Barbara Szerlip in Tractor #3 (San Francisco, 1972).
7-8. Irene Nicholson, Firefly in the Night: A Study of Ancient Mexican Poetry and Symbolism. New York, 1959.
9-10. Laurette Sejourne, Burning Water: Thought and Religion in Ancient Mexico. New York, 1960. [#9 is adapted; #10 may be incomplete]
11-12. Irene Nicholson, Firefly in the Night: A Study of Ancient Mexican Poetry and Symbolism. New York, 1959.
13-15. Delia Goetz & Sylvanus G. Morley, Popol Vuh: The Sacred Book of the Ancient Quiché Maya. University of Oklahoma Press, 1950.
16. Delia Goetz & Adrian Recinos, The Annals of the Cakchiquels. University of Oklahoma Press, 1953. [KR added the line breaks.]
17-24. José María Arguedas & Ruth Stephan, The Singing Mountaineers: Songs and Tales of the Quechua People. University of Texas Press, Austin, 1957, 1971. [Stephan translates from the Spanish of Arguedas.]
25-36. Michael Harner, The Jívaro: People of the Sacred Waterfalls. New York, 1972.
Part 3 of The Poetry of Pre-Literate Peoples.
The Poetry of Pre-Literate Peoples is the manuscript of an unpublished anthology gathered by Kenneth Rexroth (ca. 1975). The Introduction and other editorial material by Rexroth in it are copyright 2024 and reproduced here with permission of the Kenneth Rexroth Trust. However, neither the Rexroth Trust nor Rexroth’s Literary Executor assumes any legal responsibility for my posting of the various translated song lyrics that Rexroth tentatively selected for inclusion in his anthology; they are posted here exclusively on my own responsibility. The sources of each of the translations are specified at the bottom of the webpage where they appear. These translations were originally published between 1875 and 1973. Most of the books and scholarly journals in which they originally appeared are long out of print, and many of them are in the public domain. I have reproduced them here as a noncommercial public service. If any of them are still copyrighted and the copyright owner has any objections, please notify me and I will remove them from this site. —Ken Knabb