Armand_Duval
03-20-2014, 04:26 PM
Poetry in the Aztec world was known as "flower and song," the Nahuatl (Aztec language) metaphors for art and symbolism. It was the highest art form and it often celebrated the transient nature of life on earth. The theme of cut flowers was regularly used to symbolize the temporary fragility and beauty of existence.
Life, so solid, so apparently real, was thus an illusion. Only by creating art, by imitating the Lord of the Close and the Near, could they aspire to immortality. Thus the idea that "art made things divine," and only the divine was true.
In this they felt they were imitating their principal deity, Omeoteotl, the creator of the universe, also called the Lord and Lady of the Close and the Near Omeoteotl achieved immortality through creativity, and the Aztec poets sought to do the same.
The creation of poetry was a task for well-educated Aztec nobles. Individual composers like Tecayhuatzin, Ayocuan, and in particular, Nezahualcoyotl, earned renown for their poetry.
Most of the surviving Nahuatl songs can be found in two major collections, "Romances de los señores de la Nueva España" and "Cantares mexicanos" (Mexican Songs). Both were compiled between 1560 and 1582. A few songs are duplicated in both the Romances and the Cantares, attesting to their popularity. Nahuatl was primarily an oral language, which still lends itself to expressive metaphors, and eloquent repetitions. Nahuatl has over a million and a half speakers, more than any other family of indigenous languages in Mexico today. The name "Nahuatl" (pronounced in two syllables, ná-watl) comes from the root nahua ([nawa]) which means 'clear sound' or 'command'.
Cantares Mexicanos, or Mexican Songs, is the largest single collection of Nahuatl songs. They were collected by an unknown number of Aztecs who worked under the direction of a missionary during the latter part of the sixteenth century. A sense of the rhythm and rhetoric of the poets is denied the reader who does not know Nahuatal. It is inspired oratory and poetry, recited both as a pastime and to celebrate the gods.
HUNGRY-COYOTE (NEZAHUALCOYOTL)
King of Texcoco (1431-72)
There were poets in different ages and regions in the Aztec Empire. Nezahualcoyotl ("Fasting Coyote") of Texcoco lived from 1402 until 1472, thus predating the arrival of Cortes, and is considered a pre-eminent poet-ruler of the 15th century.
http://www.los-poetas.com/netz.jpg
WE ONLY LIVE IN YOUR BOOK OF PAINTINGS
With flowers You paint,
O Giver of Life!
With songs You give color,
with songs You shade
those who will live on the earth.
Later You will destroy eagles and tigers:
we live only in Your painting
here, on the earth.
With black ink You will blot out
all that was friendship,
brotherhood, nobility.
You give shading
to those who will live on the earth.
We live only in Your book of paintings,
here on the earth
ALL THE EARTH IS A GRAVE
All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it, nothing is so perfect
that it does not descend to its tomb. Rivers, rivulets, fountains and
waters flow, but never return to their joyful beginnings; anxiously
they hasten on the vast realms of the rain god. As they widen their
banks, they also fashion the sad urn of their burial.
Filled are the bowels of the earth with pestilential dust once flesh and bone, once animate bodies of man who sat upon thrones, decided cases, presided in council, commanded armies, conquered provinces, possessed treasure, destroyed temples, exulted in their pride, majesty, fortune, praise and power. Vanished are these glories, just as the fearful smoke vanishes that belches forth from the infernal fires of Popocatepetl. Nothing recalls them but the written page.
To the god of war, Huitzilopochtli
( Amantia and Pipitlan indicate the sea & southern segment of the sky respectively).
Huitzilopochtli, the warrior,
He who acts on high
Follows his own path...
O marvellous dweller among the clouds...
O dweller in the region of the frozen wings....
He causes the walls of fire to fall down
Where the feathers are gathered.
Thus he wages war
And subdues the peoples...
Eager for war, the Flaming One descends,
He rages where the whirling dust arises.
Come to our aid!
There is war, there is burning.
Those Pipitlan are our enemies
See more at.
http://www.carnaval.com/dead/aztec_poetry.htm#NAHUATL
Some more of this poems in spanish that I particularly like a lot.
I didnt find any translation to english and I dont want to do a translation of them because it is not that easy to translate this kind of poetry without losing its esscence.
DESDE DONDE SE POSAN
Desde donde se posan las águilas,
desde donde se yerguen los tigres,
el Sol es invocado.
Como un escudo que baja,
así se va poniendo el Sol.
En México está cayendo la noche,
la guerra merodea por todas partes,
¡Oh Dador de la vida!
se acerca la guerra.
Orgullosa de sí misma
se levanta la ciudad de México-Tenochtitlan.
Aquí nadie teme la muerte en la guerra.
Ésta es nuestra gloria.
Éste es tu mandato.
¡Oh, Dador de la vida!
Tenedlo presente, oh príncipes,
no lo olvidéis.
¿Quién podrá sitiar a Tenochtitlan?
¿Quien podrá conmover los cimientos del cielo...?
Con nuestras flechas,
con nuestros escudos,
está existiendo la ciudad
¡México-Tenochtitlan subsiste!15
CANTO DE GUERREROS
Por mucho que llore yo,
por mucho que yo me aflija,
por mucho que lo ansíe mi corazón,
¿no habré de ir acaso al Reino del Misterio?
En la tierra dicen nuestros corazones:
¡Ojalá que no fuéramos mortales, oh príncipes!
¿Dónde está la región en que no hay muerte?
¿No habré de ir allá yo?
¿Vive acaso mi madre allá en la Región del Misterio?
¿vive acaso mi padre allá en la Región del Misterio?
Mi corazón trepida... ¡no he de perecer...
me siento angustiado!
Dejaste asentada tu fama en la tierra,
tú, príncipe Tlacahuepan:
aún ahora se hace el oficio de servir,
aún ahora se ponen en pie los hombres,
delante del que hace vivir al mundo:
¡se viene a nacer, se viene a vivir
en la tierra!
Las banderas se entrelazan en la llanura,
las flores de obsidiana se entrecruzan,
llueve la greda, llueven las plumas:
sé que anda allí Tlacahuepan.
¡Viniste a ver lo que quería tu corazón:
la muerte al filo de obsidiana!
Por muy breve tiempo se tiene prestada
la gloria de aquel por quien todo vive:
¡se viene a nacer, se viene a vivir
en la tierra!
Con tu piel de oro con jades esparcidos
ya eres dichoso en medio del campo de combate.
¡Viniste a ver lo que quería tu corazón:
la muerte al filo de obsidiana!
Cesó nuestra muerte al fin:
somos famosos los de Zacatlán:
por allá anda nuestra fama:
con nosotros es feliz el autor de la vida.
Frente del Cerro del Escudo
es festejado el dios.
Convulsiona la tierra, en giros se revuelve,
cae una lluvia de dardos, el polvo se levanta.
Frente al Cerro del Escudo
es festejado el dios.14
Life, so solid, so apparently real, was thus an illusion. Only by creating art, by imitating the Lord of the Close and the Near, could they aspire to immortality. Thus the idea that "art made things divine," and only the divine was true.
In this they felt they were imitating their principal deity, Omeoteotl, the creator of the universe, also called the Lord and Lady of the Close and the Near Omeoteotl achieved immortality through creativity, and the Aztec poets sought to do the same.
The creation of poetry was a task for well-educated Aztec nobles. Individual composers like Tecayhuatzin, Ayocuan, and in particular, Nezahualcoyotl, earned renown for their poetry.
Most of the surviving Nahuatl songs can be found in two major collections, "Romances de los señores de la Nueva España" and "Cantares mexicanos" (Mexican Songs). Both were compiled between 1560 and 1582. A few songs are duplicated in both the Romances and the Cantares, attesting to their popularity. Nahuatl was primarily an oral language, which still lends itself to expressive metaphors, and eloquent repetitions. Nahuatl has over a million and a half speakers, more than any other family of indigenous languages in Mexico today. The name "Nahuatl" (pronounced in two syllables, ná-watl) comes from the root nahua ([nawa]) which means 'clear sound' or 'command'.
Cantares Mexicanos, or Mexican Songs, is the largest single collection of Nahuatl songs. They were collected by an unknown number of Aztecs who worked under the direction of a missionary during the latter part of the sixteenth century. A sense of the rhythm and rhetoric of the poets is denied the reader who does not know Nahuatal. It is inspired oratory and poetry, recited both as a pastime and to celebrate the gods.
HUNGRY-COYOTE (NEZAHUALCOYOTL)
King of Texcoco (1431-72)
There were poets in different ages and regions in the Aztec Empire. Nezahualcoyotl ("Fasting Coyote") of Texcoco lived from 1402 until 1472, thus predating the arrival of Cortes, and is considered a pre-eminent poet-ruler of the 15th century.
http://www.los-poetas.com/netz.jpg
WE ONLY LIVE IN YOUR BOOK OF PAINTINGS
With flowers You paint,
O Giver of Life!
With songs You give color,
with songs You shade
those who will live on the earth.
Later You will destroy eagles and tigers:
we live only in Your painting
here, on the earth.
With black ink You will blot out
all that was friendship,
brotherhood, nobility.
You give shading
to those who will live on the earth.
We live only in Your book of paintings,
here on the earth
ALL THE EARTH IS A GRAVE
All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it, nothing is so perfect
that it does not descend to its tomb. Rivers, rivulets, fountains and
waters flow, but never return to their joyful beginnings; anxiously
they hasten on the vast realms of the rain god. As they widen their
banks, they also fashion the sad urn of their burial.
Filled are the bowels of the earth with pestilential dust once flesh and bone, once animate bodies of man who sat upon thrones, decided cases, presided in council, commanded armies, conquered provinces, possessed treasure, destroyed temples, exulted in their pride, majesty, fortune, praise and power. Vanished are these glories, just as the fearful smoke vanishes that belches forth from the infernal fires of Popocatepetl. Nothing recalls them but the written page.
To the god of war, Huitzilopochtli
( Amantia and Pipitlan indicate the sea & southern segment of the sky respectively).
Huitzilopochtli, the warrior,
He who acts on high
Follows his own path...
O marvellous dweller among the clouds...
O dweller in the region of the frozen wings....
He causes the walls of fire to fall down
Where the feathers are gathered.
Thus he wages war
And subdues the peoples...
Eager for war, the Flaming One descends,
He rages where the whirling dust arises.
Come to our aid!
There is war, there is burning.
Those Pipitlan are our enemies
See more at.
http://www.carnaval.com/dead/aztec_poetry.htm#NAHUATL
Some more of this poems in spanish that I particularly like a lot.
I didnt find any translation to english and I dont want to do a translation of them because it is not that easy to translate this kind of poetry without losing its esscence.
DESDE DONDE SE POSAN
Desde donde se posan las águilas,
desde donde se yerguen los tigres,
el Sol es invocado.
Como un escudo que baja,
así se va poniendo el Sol.
En México está cayendo la noche,
la guerra merodea por todas partes,
¡Oh Dador de la vida!
se acerca la guerra.
Orgullosa de sí misma
se levanta la ciudad de México-Tenochtitlan.
Aquí nadie teme la muerte en la guerra.
Ésta es nuestra gloria.
Éste es tu mandato.
¡Oh, Dador de la vida!
Tenedlo presente, oh príncipes,
no lo olvidéis.
¿Quién podrá sitiar a Tenochtitlan?
¿Quien podrá conmover los cimientos del cielo...?
Con nuestras flechas,
con nuestros escudos,
está existiendo la ciudad
¡México-Tenochtitlan subsiste!15
CANTO DE GUERREROS
Por mucho que llore yo,
por mucho que yo me aflija,
por mucho que lo ansíe mi corazón,
¿no habré de ir acaso al Reino del Misterio?
En la tierra dicen nuestros corazones:
¡Ojalá que no fuéramos mortales, oh príncipes!
¿Dónde está la región en que no hay muerte?
¿No habré de ir allá yo?
¿Vive acaso mi madre allá en la Región del Misterio?
¿vive acaso mi padre allá en la Región del Misterio?
Mi corazón trepida... ¡no he de perecer...
me siento angustiado!
Dejaste asentada tu fama en la tierra,
tú, príncipe Tlacahuepan:
aún ahora se hace el oficio de servir,
aún ahora se ponen en pie los hombres,
delante del que hace vivir al mundo:
¡se viene a nacer, se viene a vivir
en la tierra!
Las banderas se entrelazan en la llanura,
las flores de obsidiana se entrecruzan,
llueve la greda, llueven las plumas:
sé que anda allí Tlacahuepan.
¡Viniste a ver lo que quería tu corazón:
la muerte al filo de obsidiana!
Por muy breve tiempo se tiene prestada
la gloria de aquel por quien todo vive:
¡se viene a nacer, se viene a vivir
en la tierra!
Con tu piel de oro con jades esparcidos
ya eres dichoso en medio del campo de combate.
¡Viniste a ver lo que quería tu corazón:
la muerte al filo de obsidiana!
Cesó nuestra muerte al fin:
somos famosos los de Zacatlán:
por allá anda nuestra fama:
con nosotros es feliz el autor de la vida.
Frente del Cerro del Escudo
es festejado el dios.
Convulsiona la tierra, en giros se revuelve,
cae una lluvia de dardos, el polvo se levanta.
Frente al Cerro del Escudo
es festejado el dios.14