>> So it says --
Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón, 1587-1646.
Eras tú el que buscabas, Hernando, hurgando en los rincones de las casas semillas empolvadas
de ololiuhqui.
Eras tú al que engañabas y aprehendías.
Eras tú el que preguntaba y respondía,
dondequiera mirabas moros con trinchete y ante tanto dolor,
tanta muerte un conquistador conquistado fuiste.
Sacerdote, soñador, cruz parlante.
Condenando te salvaste al transcribir, acaso sin saber el cielo.
Soy yo el de tu cepa, el de tu sueño, este cenzontle del monte;
tu mañana, tu mañana, tu mañana.
Hernando Ruiz de Alarcón, 1587-1646.
It was you, you were looking for, Hernando.
Searching every house corner for some dusty seeds of ololiuhqui.
It was you who you tricked and apprehended.
It was you who both questioned and responded.
Everywhere, you saw Moors with long knives.
And in front of so much sorrow, so much death, you became a conquered conqueror.
Priest, dreamer, and speaking cross.
Condemning, you saved yourself by transcribing, maybe without even knowing the heavens.
I am from your tree, from your dream.
This, cenzontle in the wilderness; your tomorrow, your tomorrow, your tomorrow.
And we are the tomorrow of our ancestors in many ways.
And so, I must empower myself to travel, yeah, and to see this tradition.