Original Poem：
1
In the region of rain and cloud,
I live in shade,
under the moss mat of days bruised
purple with desire.
My dominion is a song in the wide ring of water.
There, I run to and fro,
braiding the logical act
in the birth of an Ear of Corn,
polychromatic story I will now tell
in the weaving, power's form in motion,
a devotion to the unstressed.
Once, I wreathed around a king,
became a fishing net, a maze
“a deadly wealth of robe.”
Mothers who have heard me sing take heart;
I always prick them into power.
2
Y vengo alzando al viento la roja flor de invierno.
(I lift the red flower of winter into the wind.)
—Poesía Náhuatl
I
Out of the ninth circle,
a Phoenician boat rocks upward into light
and the warmth of a name—given to heaven—
that arises in the ninth realm.
Earth's realm discloses the Egyptian
on the point of invention,
deprived of life and death,
heart deep in the soul's hawk,
a thymos shadow knapping the tombed body.
Some one or thing is always heaven bound.
Some flowered log doubles my bones.
The spirit of Toltec turtledoves escapes.
A sharp, metaphorical cry sends me
into the adorned sepulchre,
and the thing that decays learns
how to speak its name.
L
IFT
Down Hidalgo,
past Alvarado and Basurto,
I walk a straight line
to the snailed Pasco Los Berros.
Here, at noon, the sun,
a silver bead,
veils what the dawn has displayed.
Even so,
I have taken up the morning's bond again
—the lake with its pendulum leg
shining in the distance,
the boy in white
hauling his bottle of chalky milk home.
I know I sit in the deep of a city
with its brocade of hills,
where a thin rain is an evening's fire.
I have heard the women sing
near their gas lamps,
when the rose end of day lights a hunger
for the garlanded soups and meat they prepare.
Often, I have taken the high ground
by the pond, over a frog's voice
dampened by lilies,
and been exalted by the soothsayer
who knows I'm not at home.
I am the arcane body,
raised at the ninth hour,
to be welcomed by the moonlight
of such spirited air.
I am the Dane of degrees
who realizes how the spirit glows
even as it descends.
R
ED
The heart, catalectic though it be, does glow,
responds to every midnight bell within you.
This is a discourse on reading heat,
the flushed char of burned moments one sees
after the sexton's lamp flows
over the body's dark book.
There is suspicion
here that violet
traces of
sacrifice
stand
bare.
F
LOWER
This marble dust recalls that sunset
with the best burgundy, and the way,
after the charm of it, the peacocks
escaped their cages on the green.
I would now embellish the flame
that ornaments you,
even as it once in that moment
did.
I carry you blossomed,
cream and salt of a high crown.
You
must
flare,
stream forth,
blister and scale me,
even as you structure the enveloping kiss,
sporophore of our highest loss.
W
INTER
Under the evergreens,
the grouse have gone under the snow.
Women who follow their fall flight
tell us that, if you listen, you can hear
their dove's voices ridge the air,
a singing that follows us to a bourne
released from its heat sleep.
We have come to an imagined line,
celestial,
that binds us to the burr of a sheltered thing
and rings us with a fire that will not dance,
in a horn that will not sound.
We have learned, like these birds,
to publish our decline,
when over knotted apples and straw-crisp leaves,
the slanted sun welcomes us once again
to the arrested music in the earth's divided embrace.
W
IND
Through winter,
harmattan blacks the air.
My body fat with oil,
I become another star at noon,
when the vatic insistence
of the dog star's breath clings to me.
Though I am a woman,
I turn south,
toward the fire,
and hear the spirits in the bush.
But this is my conceit:
water will come from the west,
and I will have my trance,
be reborn,
perhaps in a Mediterranean air,
the Rhone delta's contention
with the eastern side of rain.
In all these disguises,
I follow the aroma of power.
So I am charged in my own field,
to give birth to the solar wind,
particles spiraling around the line
of my body,
moving toward the disruption,
the moment when the oil of my star at noon
is a new dawn.
3
I shall go away, I shall disappear,
I shall be stretched on a bed of yellow roses
and the old women will cry for me.
So the Toltecas wrote: their books are finished,
but your heart has become perfect.
Analysis and Interpretation of the Poem
This poem is a rich tapestry of imagery, culture, and symbolism that explores themes of nature, identity, power, and transformation. It is divided into multiple sections, each evoking different elements such as rain, cloud, winter, and spiritual realms. The poet uses vivid metaphors like "braiding the logical act in the birth of an Ear of Corn" to symbolize creation and growth, and "a deadly wealth of robe" to suggest power and complexity.
The poem also references indigenous cultures, such as the Toltecs and Náhuatl poetry, grounding the work in a deep historical and spiritual context. The mention of "the red flower of winter" and "the spirit of Toltec turtledoves" evokes a connection to ancient traditions and the natural cycle of life and death.
The poem’s tone is mystical and reflective, with a focus on the interplay between earthly existence and spiritual transcendence. The imagery of boats, birds, stars, and flowers all point to a journey—both physical and metaphysical—towards understanding and empowerment.
Background and Author Introduction
This poem draws heavily on Mesoamerican cultural and spiritual motifs, particularly those of the Toltec civilization and the Náhuatl language poetry. The Toltecs were a pre-Columbian civilization in Mexico known for their rich mythology and philosophy. Náhuatl poetry is renowned for its symbolic and metaphorical depth, often exploring themes of nature, life, and the cosmos.
The author is likely a poet deeply influenced by indigenous Mexican heritage and the natural world, blending traditional elements with modern poetic forms. This fusion creates a unique voice that honors ancestral wisdom while exploring contemporary themes of identity and transformation.
Educational Value and Learning Points for Children and Students
This poem offers multiple learning opportunities for students:
- Cultural Awareness: Students learn about Mesoamerican civilizations like the Toltecs and the significance of Náhuatl poetry, fostering respect for indigenous cultures.
- Imagery and Symbolism: The poem is rich in visual and metaphorical language, helping students develop skills in literary analysis and creative interpretation.
- Themes of Nature and Transformation: The natural elements and spiritual journey encourage students to reflect on change, growth, and resilience.
- Language Skills: The poem’s bilingual elements (Spanish and English) provide an introduction to language diversity and translation.
- Emotional Expression: The poem’s tone and themes can help students explore feelings of longing, power, and transcendence.
Practical Applications in Life and Learning
- Creative Writing: Students can use the poem as inspiration to write their own poems or stories that incorporate nature and cultural heritage.
- History and Social Studies: The poem can be a starting point for projects on ancient civilizations and indigenous peoples.
- Mindfulness and Reflection: The spiritual and contemplative nature of the poem can be used in classroom activities focused on meditation and emotional awareness.
- Art Integration: Students can create visual art based on the poem’s imagery, enhancing their understanding through multiple forms of expression.
Reading Comprehension Exercises
- What natural elements are mentioned in the poem? List at least three.
- Explain the significance of the "red flower of winter" in the poem.
- How does the poem connect to Toltec culture?
- What emotions does the poem evoke? Give examples from the text.
- Describe the journey or transformation the speaker experiences.
Answer Key
- Rain, cloud, moss, Ear of Corn, lake, sun, snow, grouse, lilies, wind, stars.
- The "red flower of winter" symbolizes resilience and beauty in harsh conditions, representing hope and strength during difficult times.
- The poem references Toltec turtledoves and ancient books, connecting to Toltec spirituality and wisdom.
- The poem evokes emotions such as longing ("days bruised purple with desire"), power ("I always prick them into power"), and contemplation ("I am the arcane body, raised at the ninth hour").
- The speaker moves through physical and spiritual realms, from earthly life to transcendence, symbolized by journeys through nature and references to celestial bodies and spiritual awakening.
This poem is a profound work that enriches students’ understanding of poetry, culture, and the human experience, making it a valuable resource for education and personal growth.
