Weep for the thousands of poems the Spanish burned.
SONG AT THE BEGINNING
(excerpt)
Where shall I pick them?
Where do I gather sweet flowers?
How shall I gain that flowery land,
That lush land where bondage is no more,
Neither is their suffering?
If one buys it on earth,
It is only through obeying Huitzilopochtli.
Here on earth, sorrow fills my soul,
As I recall where the singer beheld that flowered place.
[wheet-zil-oh-poch-tlee]
SAMPLE LINES
Stand, friend of mine,
Excited, bring your flowers to the drum,
Your rancor takes flight,
Dress yourself in them,
Flowers hold high their heads…
C. T. Suddeth 
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