>> And this is the--my translation for children, of the poem that I read to you in Nahuatl,
in English, and the poem goes Ode to corn.
Father, mother, gift from the sun.
Earth, water, air, light.
Like the races of this world, you appear.
Black, yellow, red and white.
Your tender ears are born pointing to the sky.
The wind caresses your silky hair.
Sister, brother, green, dear.
My hands will harvest your veiled, big smile.
And the idea with this --