Clearvigil in Spring

CLEARVIGIL IN SPRIN G A May an My t h --An English Translation of Miguel Ángel Asturias’ Clariv igilia Primav eral by Robert W. Lebling

Copyright  2009 by Robert W. Lebling

Translated w ith perm ission of ALLCA, University of Paris X, N anterre, France.

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IN TROD UCTION

Pau l Valéry called Miguel Ángel Asturias’ Legends of Guatemala (Leyendas de Guatemala) a collection of "history-d ream -poem s," and the sam e d escription applies to Clearvigil in Spring (Clarivigilia Primaveral), a history-d ream -poem in w hich Astu rias— w inner of the Nobel Prize for Literatu re in 1967 — evokes the creation of artists by the Maya god s, d istancing him self entirely from the know n texts. Bu t these prim itive artists are d estroyed , accord ing to this poem w hich in itself is a legend , by earthborn forces inim ical to arts and magics. The earth is subjected to pu nishment by fire and w ater, and w hen centu ries later it is reborn, the expression of artistic beau ty is entru sted in painting to bird s of beau tifu l plu mage, in music and song to bird s of prod igiou s throat, and in scu lptu re to rocky hills and stones shaped like anim als. The Maya god s, observing that all of these things are beau tifu l bu t d o not possess magic, once again create artists, or those entru sted w ith magic, and to keep them from being d estroyed , place them in the fou r corners of the sky. Bu t these artists spend their tim e flattering the god s and creating w orks for the taste and liking of the d ivinities, forgetting abou t man. As a resu lt, for the second tim e the artists created by the god s stand at the brink of d estru ction. H eavenly forces pu rsu e them and w ou nd them , and from the w ound ed arts em erges hum anized art, the art of all for all. In this poem -legend w e encou nter w ord plays, onom atopeias and m yths translated to epic form in a creation ever more Am erican, m ore characteristic, m ore au thentic, and u nconnected to the literatu res of Eu rope.

Translator’s N ote: This translation is based on Ed itorial Losada’s second ed ition of Clarivigilia Primaveral (Bu enos Aires: 1965). Footnote qu otations attribu ted to “MAA” are my translations of notes from another Astu rias w ork, Leyendas de Guatemala (sixth ed ition, Bu enos Aires: Losada, 1975), containing local inform ation of valu e to the read er.

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CON TEN TS

In the Light of the Gold thinking-Stars....................................... Pu nishm ent of Profu nd ities........................................................ Yes, Bu t N o Magic..................................................................... N avels of Su n and Preciou s Copals........................................... Magicians-Men-Magicians...................................................... H id d en Crafts........................................................................... The Celestial Hu nters................................................................ The H u nt.................................................................................... Dates of Stone............................................................................ Movingroot of the Flow er of the Air.......................................... The Dance of the Chim eras........................................................

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7 17 31 35 37 43 47 51 63 71 75

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IN THE LIGHT OF THE GOLD THIN KIN G-STARS

TH E N IGH T, N OTH IN GN ESS AN D LIFE, the Imm ense Wid ow s, and the Tw ohand ed Tattooer of w orlds that HE created w ith his eyes and tattooed w ith his su nflow er stare, created w ith his hand s, one real and one d ream , created w ith his w ord , a tattoo of resound ing saliva, w orld s that he, thou gh blind ed , red eem ed from the silence w ith the snail-cu rl of his ears and from the lu m inou s mu rk w ith his extingu ished constellation touch, w ith his fingers bejew eled w ith nu m bers and hu m m ingbird s. The N ight, N othingness and Life, the Imm ense Wid ow s in the light of the Gold thinking-stars, Em issaries w ho lost their w ay in the nickel sky w ithou t revealing their message and the Tw ohand ed Tattooer blind ed by the thread like rain of eyes. The rain scorched the w hites of his eyes, the qu icklim e corneas, in the presence of those w ho bejew el the earth w ith w ater tattoos, tattoos in motion, navigable tattoos, Flu vial Tattooers; before those w ho pearl the field s w ith tearfu l du st, Tattooers of the Dew ; before those w ho set ou t to tattoo the beaches w ith snails, sponges and sargassos,

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the rau cous skeleton of the sea, Oceanic Tattooers; before those w ho steal from serpentariu m s tattoos that shorten d istance and move aw ay the near, Tattooers of Roads; before the Tattooers of the Dusk, their hand s w ith hand fu ls of sunset clou d s... Before the Tattooers of the N ight, their hand s w ith am u lets of fire... The N ight, N othingness and Life, those Imm ense Wid ow s in the light of the Gold thinking-stars, Em issaries w ho lost their w ay in the nickel sky, w ithou t revealing their message, and the Tw ohand ed Tattooer w ith his hollow pupils, craters of extinct volcanoes in the cem etery of his corneas, on the move — Blind ed by Fresh Rain, those Blind ed by Fresh Rain see w hat they d ream — in all the w hite shad ow his steps provid ed , his cou ntless feet moving beneath the tu nic w oven w ith am nesia of silkw orms, the silver-d ust cloak in the w ind at his shou ld ers, to keep from losing the thread of the tattoo w hen crossing the shad ow y w orld w here tou ch is d emagnetized and one must d od ge, transform ed into d ream , jaguars forged of fire, blu e tu rkeys forged of sky, corals of coral vipers, breathless jad es, w om en cu t into island s,

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m asks pockmarked w ith rubies, sku lls w ith teeth encru sted w ith jad eites, horoscopes of breeze and cities of w hite copal1, u ntil one em erges at respiration, at respirations, at scent, at pollen, at the calend ar of ashes, at the hailstorm of hieroglyphics... Ceiba-tree2 fingers com bed the cottony mem ory, and from it fell d ialects w ith the roar of w ood pecker rains and all the sou nds of terrestrial w ord s... The w ord s, w orkers of the light... The fingers com bed the mem ory of lake tresses, from w hich fell lacu strine langu ages, syllabic, tattooed w ith bubbles, and all the sou nds of aquatic w ord s... The w ord s, w orkers of the light... The fingers com bed 1

Copal is a hard ened , arom atic resin, pale yellow to red in color, obtained from various tropical trees and burned as incense by the Maya. 2 The kapok or silk-cotton tree. A tall tropical tree that prod uces large pod s of silk cotton or kapok, used tod ay to fill m attresses and pad furniture. N ative to the low land s of Central Am erica, it is the m ost sacred tree of the Maya. Sym bolically, it is a tree of life at the center of a conceptual space. It is called yaxche in Yucatec Maya.

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the mem ory of su n tresses, from w hich fell langu ages of astronomies spoken throu ghou t the stars and of marimbas 1 w ith mirror keyboard s that pou nd ed great elastic raind rops into calendar d ates festooned w ith hornpipes and d ru m s, and all the sou nds of celestial w ord s... The w ord s, w orkers of the light... The N ight, N othingness and Life, the Imm ense Wid ow s, the im m ense w id ow hood of the heavens after each lightning flash and the sobbing and w eeping of the turtled ove for w hat the Em issaries kept secret, a message of w hich only reflections rem ain, tresses of the Gold thinking-stars spread on the azu re plates. The sobbing and w eeping of the tu rtled ove for a life w ithou t message, life tattooed blind ly by the Tw ohand ed Tattooer w ho d ecanted , from one w orld to another, living im m ensities, u niverses, d ynasties of igu anas, aquariu ms, tails of com ets, floating gard ens, m arkets of w ords, oils, 1

Large xylophones, very popular in Guatem ala.

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stars, fire beetles, bu tterflies... A Tw ohand ed Tattooer w ho, after peopling his blind ness, created w ith his tou ch, created w ith his breath — the sound from his face collid ing against his heart — those w ho w ou ld be entru sted w ith the raising of beings, things and sound s of d ream . The ones entrusted : Those of the songs soaking, clearvigilant shamans of poetry, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the stones soaking, clearvigilant shamans of scu lptu re, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the colors soaking, clearvigilant shamans of painting, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the d arkness soaking, clearvigilant shamans of gou rd carving, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the feathers soaking, clearvigilant shamans of the art of plum agery, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking.

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Those of the sou nds soaking, clearvigilant shamans of music, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the metals soaking, sm elters, goldsm iths, gem setters, clearvigilant, clearsleeping, clearw aking.

Those of the songs soaking, clearvigilant shamans of poetry, spew ed mirror w ater from their lips to see and make seen things soaked as in d ream s... clearvigilant, Clearsleeping, clearw aking. Those of the stones soaking, clearvigilant shamans of scu lptu re, floated eyeless at the bottom of the azure jew el-case, their tou ch exposed to the pecks of the light of the air, clearw aking, clearvigilant, clearsleeping. Those of the colors soaking, clearvigilant shamans of painting, sw ept aw ay reality w ith feathered broom s to clear a path for enigm a, clearw aking, clearvigilant, clearsleeping. Those of the d arkness soaking, clearvigilant shamans of gou rd carving, set loose the blad e-sm oke d rifting throu gh the black-varnish 1 night, MAA uses the Guatem alan w ord nije: “Black varnish that the natives use to give the shine of lacquer to objects they use (jicaras [calabash cups], guacales [crates], etc.). It is an indigenous 1

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clearw aking, clearvigilant, clearsleeping. Those of the feathers soaking, clearvigilant shamans of the art of plum agery, restored the w ing of the qu etzal1 to cand escent flight in the gem stone of the w ind and in the tu fts of plu m e, gu ard ian of the temples, clearw aking, clearvigilant, clearsleeping. Those of the metals soaking, sm elters, goldsm iths, gem setters, m ined gold from the light of the air, silver from the lunar light, gem s from the w ater’s light, clearw aking, clearvigilant, clearsleeping. Those of the sou nds soaking, clearvigilant shamans of music, spoke for the su n, the su n w hose tongu e the eclipses consu m ed , they spoke for the su n w ith the sou nd of stone, m arim ba w ood , ocarina, d ru m skin, pierced reed , fish scale, tortoise, rattles of the rattlesnake, lacquer.” 1 A spectacular bird of Central Am erica, w hose long green tail-feathers w ere highly prized by the ancient Maya. It is the bird sym bol of Guatemala. Quetzal is a Mexican w ord ; the Quiché Maya calls the bird kukul. MAA: “It is a m ost beautiful bird . In the Ind ian texts it is em ployed as the superlative of beauty.”

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clearsleeping, clearvigilant, clearw aking. Bu t the w ord d oes not grasp, the mu sic d oes not enclose, voice and sou nd soak the porou s space of the vast blu e ju g and vanish throu gh its pores. N ot so the fastening magics, those that keep the trem or of the substances in tem ples, altars and monu m ents tattooed w ith w arriors, priests, nam e d ays, presences, astronom ic d ancers, and in the cerem onial robes tattooed w ith bu tterfly w ings, and in the jew els tattooed w ith stars, and in the bark of the am atl1 tattooed w ith colored calligraphies in equ inoctial boil. In calcu lation lies the substance of the star, ju st as in these magic tattoos of lines, forms and colors, lies the su bstance of the Universe, of the Universe visible and im m obile. And for those cagers of creation, the ones w ho raised beings, things and sound s of d ream , 1

A w ild fig tree of the genus Ficus. In pre-conquest tim es, the N ahuatl (and possibly other native peoples) m ad e extensive use of the bark of these trees for the preparation of paper for record s and correspond ence.

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the sketchers, painters, scu lptors, engravers, gold sm iths, gou rd cu tters (so fine is the cu tting ed ge of the flint that it tu rns to thread in the varnish of the gou rd cu p), plu m ists and w eavers of hu ipils 1 w ith tend rils of silk measu ring fru itlike breasts and hips; for these clearvigilant magicians assisting the Tw ohand ed Tattooer, the earth, the light, the w ind , the sky, the w ater, the su n, the air, w eep in the cage of the perforated night, blind ness w ithou t exit. Canina, the Eagle of the Rabid Dogs, flu ng himself against the Tw ohand ed Tattooer. "Everything’s eroded by you r sketchers!" — he cried , his frill rising in a circu lar fan, his eyes nou gats of glass, his claw s soaked w ith glacial sw eat — "Everything’s eroded by you r sketchers Blouses or shifts w orn by Maya w om en, often richly w oven or em broid ered . MAA: “Sleeveless blouses of the Ind ians. It is a very colorful fem ale garm ent. On the coarse fabric, em broid ery in silks of living hues stylizes the m ost graceful prim itive ornam ental m otifs: bird s, d eer, rabbits, etc. (Güipil or huipil, no d ifference.)” 1

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or missing from the canvases of you r m irror-painters! If you w eren’t a blind chew er of shad ow s you’d know the w ork of you r artists! I hate you r gou rd cu tters, I hate them , from the gou rd in their hand s come cups and platters entangled in spid erw eb sketches! And you r scu lptors and stonecu tters w ho captu re the lau ghter of the stones in the light and shad ow of the bas-relief! You r goldsm iths and jew elers! They have gem s in place of fingertips, so mu ch precious stone passes throu gh their hand s! You r potters, through them the clay tells lies! You r plu m ists, their beau tifu l plu magery art hu m anizes the sw ift w ing!... I hate everything you r artists create in the artificial light that is the night w ithou t tresses." Then and there he d estroyed him , he d estroyed them , he shattered the Tw ohand ed Tattooer, he shattered the reality and the d ream of the blind artists, not the Eagle, not the Eagle of the Rabid Dogs... Som eone else... Som eone overcam e him w ith a claw ... ...in the light of the Gold thinking-stars...

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PUN ISHMEN T OF PROFUN D ITIES

SOMEON E, som eone overcam e him w ith a claw ... The H u nter of the Air? Som eone, bu t not the Hu nter of the Air. Bu sy ears, bu sy hand s, w here he pu ts his ear he pu ts his hand , the H u nter of the Air... Bu sy gorges, bu sy clou d s, w here he pu ts the gorge he pu ts the clou d s, the H u nter of the Air. Som eone overcam e him w ith a claw ... H u nter of the Air is only the echo. Som eone existing, corporeal. Som eone of u nfired mu d , pu pils of glazed w ater, teeth painted blu e, shining cheekbones, fingers of spiny cactu s, a mou th w ithou t w ord s. Som eone prior to the w ord , som eone of u nfired mu d , som eone of stony clay, his face a vessel w ith eyes, and magic ad ornments of com et bones

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on his ears, forearms, w aist, ankles. H is speech, the motion of his plu m es. A langu age of plum es of colors. A tem pestuous w arrior, face to face w ith his shield , face to face w ith his arrow s, he speaks w ith the motion of his plu mes: "The Tw ohand ed Tattooer and those w ho helped him raise the w orld s of d ream , perished at the hand s of the one w ho sleeps beneath the acacias... (...I sleep beneath the acacias...)." "The Tw ohand ed Tattooer and those w ho helped him raise the w orld s of d ream , perished in the claw s of the one w ho how ls to bleed the silence of the night... (...I how l to bleed the silence of the night...)." "The Tw ohand ed Tattooer and those w ho helped him raise the w orld s of d ream , in a soaking of blind w ater, perished in the jaw s of the one w ho shines w ith his w hite solstice fangs... (...I shine w ith my w hite solstice fangs...)." Deaths, d estru ctions, fragm entations, m utilations... Relics of staircases, braid s of stone painted fresh sky blu e... fragm ents of fretw ork w arped w ith labyrinth-saliva thread ... Cerem onial plazas... Talking masks

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and alabaster rings in the Ball Cou rts 1... Dressing rooms w here the trees u nd ressed ... Walls w ith eyes of celestial copal... Destru ctions, fragm entations, m u tilated paintings on a backgrou nd of red d ish tobacco. Bonfires, tribu tes, tram pling of fru itfu l im ages of w om en... Stag horn ashes to enlarge their eyelid s w ith rainw ater lashes and pu t ind igo d istance beneath their eyes, tiger pelts, false fingernails, necklaces of snake head s, am u lets of gold w ith no notion of their antiqu ity... Destru ctions, fragm entations, m u tilated paintings on a backgrou nd of a hailstorm of colors. Cloaks, parasols, fans... The flint knife heated to the living red of the heart... Am u lets, blow guns, vases of orgies w ith d raw ings of intim ate calisthenics or scenes of gold en banqu ets,

gu ests covered w ith pu stu les 2, eating silver sand 1

Stone courts in w hich w as played an im portant ritual ball gam e of the Maya. The gam e w as called pok-ta-pok by the Yucatec Maya. The object w as to pass the ball through a ring m ounted in a w all. 2 N ahuatl hieroglyphics portrayed som e god s as covered w ith red pustules. Am ong the Quiché Maya, pustules w ere seen as a condition suffered by the physically inactive, and thus becam e a sym bol for the w ealthy.

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w ith hands cram ped w ith lu nations... Destru ctions, fragm entations, m u tilated paintings of vegetal cerem onies. Tru m peters, m u sicians, d ancers... The foam petrified , finally petrified in the bas-reliefs. Circu lar altars, coins for the bu ying and selling of stars. Cities w ithou t tim e. An entire city preserving a d rop of w ater... Destru ctions, fragm entations, m u tilations... And w ho bu t he sleeps beneath the acacias, tru ly, H u nter of the Air? And w ho bu t he how ls to bleed the silence, tru ly, H u nter of the Air? And w ho bu t he shines w ith his fangs, tru ly, H u nter of the Air? Who bu t he, corporeal, real, u nfired mu d , m ou th w ithou t w ord , a vessel w ith eyes, shattered the Tw ohand ed Tattooer and those w ho raised beings and things in a soaking of d ream w ater.

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Who bu t he, scalp and w eapons, shield and lance, barely su pported by the vertebral snake of lightning as he gets to his feet and raises his d esert-island head , a chieftain for centu ries of sold iers w ho d eny life, of sold iers w ho sow d eath in my cou ntry forged of honey.

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H u nter of the Air, w here he pu ts his hand he pu ts his ear, w here he pu ts the clou d he pu ts the gorge, he rolled the aerolite silence from one heaven to another and erased the w orld of the Tw ohand ed Tattooer and those w ho helped him raise beings, things and sou nd s of d ream . "We may be stripped of ou r flesh, of ou r mu sical bones, of cou rse, H u nter of the Air... Bu t not of ou r w orks, im ages of ou r im age, gloves of ou r presence. Tow ers, w atch-stations, tru ncated pyram id s, astronom ic observatories, spiral staircases w here the su nflow ers of the sky com e w hirling d ow n..." "We may be stripped of ou r flesh, of ou r mu sical bones, bu t not of ou r songs, alliances of light and air, not of ou r chronicles, alliances of color and tim e, not of ou r w orks, im ages of ou r im age,

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gloves of ou r presence..." "I, m em ory w ith tears, poetry is mem ory w ith tears..." "I, m em ory w ith d ream , engraving is mem ory w ith d ream ..." "I, m em ory w ith sun, scu lptu re is memory w ith su n..." "I, m em ory w ith light, painting is memory w ith light..." "I, m em ory of the sea, m u sic is mem ory of the sea..."

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The treacherous Warrior sets loose his magic speech. H is plu m es speak. "They perished in m y hand s, they perished in my claw s, they perished in my jaw s... those w ho raised w orld s, those w ho raised w orld s of d ream , those w ho raised w orld s of d ream in a soaking of blind w ater, shaman tattooers of the greatest d eceits of sight and sou nd ... "They perished in m y hand s, they perished in my claw s, they perished in my jaw s... I sleep beneath the acacias, I how l to bleed the silence, I shine w ith my fangs and now I stand at w ar w ith the Eagles, for having bested w ith my claw Canina, the Eagle of the Rabid Dogs. "I snatched his prey bu t d id n’t find w hat I w as seeking, the real and the u nreal of splend or, fire. To possess light and not possess fire! The orphanhood of the mirror. I shiver, bathed in teeth, m y ow n, those of the shivering stars and those of the beasts of my retinu e, tigers, pu mas, tapirs, w ild boars...

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"I shiver, bathed in teeth in my canopy of shivering reed s... Brains of moon ad hering to hairy nights... Eyes w ith absent visions pasted like d ecalcom anias to the crystal of the pu pils... The d ance of the hares' tails... All the booty of magics, of tattoos, of glow ing bitu m ens and ices. If only Talons of Flint w ou ld com e. Bu t w here w ill he go, w here w ill Talons of Flint, m y Su rrogate, go, the one w ho hold s m y place of com mand , in my absence. If only my Su rrogate w ou ld com e to tickle the stones, to make them lau gh — fire is the lau ghter of the stones — to d raw forth gu ffaw s of gold ... Bu t w here w ill Talons of Flint w alk, on w hat molar of the ru m inating sky, on w hat tem pest's arm , on w hat lightning bolt's tail, on w hat clou d , w hat mist, w hat rock d iaper..." Talons of Flint assem bles his Su rrogate im age, before setting loose his magic speech. One hears w hat Su rrogate asks. One hears w hat Su rrogate answ ers. "If he w ho scrapes the fish-scales, scrapes as he scrapes you , scrapes as he scrapes you , he listens to the laughter of the sea; if he w ho scrapes a d ead man's bones, scrapes as he scrapes you scrapes as he scrapes you , scrapes as he scrapes you , he hears the solitary lau ghter of his ancestors;

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and if one tries to tickle the tree w ith honey-d au bed hand s, d eliriou s syru py fru its laugh in the branches, and if one tickles the w ater, gu ffaw s of hail d escend , scraping the stones w ith my talons, he scrapes as I scratch you , scrapes as he scrapes you , scrapes as I scratch you , scrap es as he scrapes you , fire w ill leap, the lau ghter of the stones w ill leap, w ill spu tter, w ill scorch w hat is theirs and w hat is not... "Bu t w hich stone shou ld I m ake lau gh? Which stone shou ld I tickle? The lod estone? The rou nd ed pebbles? The pu m ice stone? "Which stone shou ld I m ake lau gh? Which stone shou ld I tickle? The basalts, the onyxes? The profou nd d iorites? The sparkling quartzes? The jad eites w ith their vegetal flesh? The porphyries of glow ing blood and mineral respiration? "Which stone shou ld I m ake lau gh? Which stone shou ld I tickle? "My talons on the lod estone? Magnet d oesn’t eat m agnet... "My talons on the pu m ice stone, w hite river-skeleton bone? My talons on the slabs

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of the lu xu ry friezes? "Which stone shou ld I tickle? Which stone shou ld I m ake lau gh? "I’ll tickle the serpent stone. I’ll d raw lau ghter from the stone of the eclipse and the lightning flash..." And from the serpent stone and Talons of Flint, he scrapes as I scratch you , he scrapes as he scrapes you , he scrapes as I scratch you , he scrapes as he scrapes you , he scrapes as he scrapes you , u p leapt the fire, the lau ghter of the stones. "The lau ghter of the stones?" asked the Eagles, lost in their blu e d eserts. "Go steal it, Sparrow H aw k! Go steal it, Hu rricane 1 w ith Wings! Go steal it so w e may try it!" The Sparrow H aw k left and retu rned w ith sparks in his beak. The Eagles tried the lau ghter of the stones and spat it ou t at once... Bitter?... Brackish?... 1

There w as a Maya god H urakán, from w hom the w ord hurricane (Spanish: huracán) d erives. MAA: “Giant of the w ind s, spirit of the sky, a lightning flash sometim es; he is one of the m ore im portant god s of Quiché [Maya] m ythology.”

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Talons of Flint tried to d ou se it w ith his coyote w ail, before H u rricane w ith Wings cou ld steal it, and he salted it w ith his tears.

And the lau ghter of the stones, w ith a coyote's w ail, spat ou t by the Eagles, salt, eclipse and lightning flash, consu m ed the mirror-w ater skin of the earth. Wood lands and aband oned cities bu rned on the bank of rivers that roasted stones and em bankm ents, bleed ing gu ms and teeth of bu ttery ash like the d istance that the gold en -sm oke azuacan 1 brings on its w ings from sou thern lands. Bu tterflies of tu rpentine flew from the tru nks of the pines. Cataracts of orchid sw eat rained from the arm s of the ceiba trees. Fire d u st fell from the d ry oaks, boiling balsam from the liqu idam bars 2 and to the perfu m e of tamarind s ablaze w as joined that of the cacao groves, a scent of chocolate, Accord ing to MAA, azuacans are “m igratory kites [milanos] that cross the hem isphere in search of w arm w eather. They pass through in imm ense num bers and at great altitud es, so that they resem ble cloud s in the sky.” 2 Com m only know n as the sw eet gum , this im portant timber tree is found in the m ountains of southern Mexico, highland s of southern Belize and eastern Guatem ala and H ond uras. The tree prod uces storax, a fragrant balsam called xochicotzo by the ancient Mexicans and used in m ed icines and perfum es. 1

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am id the little bone cracks of the sapodillas 1, the ru bber trees tw isted in elastic colum ns, the chicle trees d ripping w ith milky hairs, and the crackling conocastes 2, red blood of u prooted foliage, and the sleeping w hite oaks 3, alm ost mineral, and the fleshy mahoganies, alread y bu tter from the tou ch of a constellation that lost a foot in the conflagration of the sky and now w alked its leg of fire in the conflagration of the land . Whales gone astray in tropical seas, phosphorescent, torrid flying seas, playing vaqu eros, they hu rled jets of w ater to lasso the tiger of the conflagration, the tiger of squ eaking ru bies, w ho recovered his com et-gone-mad ferocity as he fell on the crystal hoop straps of the blue vaqueros, liqu id lariats that held him , paralyzed w ith su rprise, long enou gh to slow his escape, his flight from the w ater-mad e-steam , w hile the corsairs, floating islands w ith tiny eyes, m anaged to rope him w ith new and more pow erfu l jets of w ater, slip -knot rings, w hose loops the tiger of squ eaking ru bies pu lled u p among flam es and stars, 1

Called chicozapote in Central Am erica. A large evergreen tree tapped since ancient tim es d uring the rainy season for its latex, w hich yield s chicle gum . 2 A large tropical Am erican timber tree, com m only called guanacaste, N ahuatl for “ear-tree.” 3 Called matilisguate in Guatem ala. Also know n as the roble, its w ood bears a superficial resem blance to oak. The tree grow s to great height, inhabits a range from w et low land s to d ry m ountain slopes from southern Mexico to Venezuela.

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tow ard the constellation of the mirage, the one that lost its foot, the constellation of d istance, and tow ard the arm y of blu e lakes parapeted in the mou ths of the higher volcanoes, lakes that before falling into fragm ents — conqu ered , evaporated — leapt and , coiled on the tiger of ru bies, galloped w ith him , transform ed into serpents of tu rquoise flam es.

The earth w as su bjected to a pu nishm ent of profu nd ities. After the conflagration, the invisible rains, the soil overtu rned , the hu rricane of mu d , the razors of the sun, the chichicaste nettle 1 in the living flesh... a pu nishm ent of profu nd ities for having mad e room for the first barbarian, not the last, for the first hu man beast, for the first execu tioner in my cou ntry forged of honey.

1

A greenish-yellow spiny plant. It is prolific around the Guatem alan tow n of Chichicastenango (“the Place of the N ettles”), nam ed in its honor.

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YES, BUT N O MAGIC...

TH E BIRDS FLY, DRIVEN MAD , not know ing w here to take them selves... The bew ild ered w ind s stu mble u pon the sea and u nravel it... There are trees moving. N ew trees carried by the w aters. Stones moving. Reflections of fu tu re cities carried by the w aters. There’s no music? Is that you r com plaint, H u nter of the Air? The mockingbird itself is all of mu sic. Tw o hu nd red voices exist in a single throat. Crystals, w ood s, metals and cord s... And the canyon w ren of oboe tim bre and the d ou ble flu tes, and the triple flu tes of trou pials, w ood peckers, gold finches, caland ra larks, and the clash of the hollow tru nks, and the w ater snail, and the d ru m beat of the w ind in the great thu nd er-cotton ceibas...? ...mu sic yes, bu t no magic... There’s no poetry? Is that you r com plaint, H u nter of the Air?

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The hid d en poetry, w ithou t w ord s it sings. It is the cactu s flow er, if the arrow s see it, the flow er of the am atl, if the blind see it, and the abstract flow er, if the rou nd -eyed zeros see it... Three hu ndred thou sand eyes of rou nd zeros... Three hu nd red thousand years... You w ant more poetry, H u nter of the Air? It sings in the sou nd s of the w ind . Winged pyrotechnics of parakeeteries... Uproars, cries, shrieks and pauses of astonishment... silences also resou nd ing. And the babble of frogs and monkeys... Monkeys w histling syllables — help! — throu gh the monosyllables and onomatopoeias of elastic tracks... seed s of the infinite ou tcry, poetry... ...poetry yes bu t no magic... There’s no painting? Is that you r com plaint, H u nter of the Air? The macaw s, on w hich battle colors that shou t all colors, greens new ly green, spru ng from greener greens, and the red red s, the red d est red s of all the red s, all the rainbow in violent struggle, intense, w ith ou t truce, clear amethysts and d eep sapphires, w hite flashes of lightning, pu rples, violets, lilacs, rosy hu es... And the motm ots 1, on w hich battle 1

Central Am erica is generally regard ed as the crad le of the m otm ot fam ily; eight of the nine know n species of this kingfisher relative are found there. This bird is know n for its long tail and

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blu es that shou t all blu es, blu es of tu rkeys blue and still more blue, blu es of blu e lakes, And the great orioles 1, on w hich battle fires that fly, all fires, all the colors of fire in their plu m es, the flam es, the red -hot coals, the su ns of the ray. And the blackbird , on w hich stru ggle shad ow s that shriek, sorrow s that battle, all the blackness of morro-tree2 honey, the blackness all d ru nkenness of d ream s of extingu ished fru it. And the hu m m ingbird s of w ound ed saffron and the d u ck, a w atersand elf w ith feathers from sky-blu e to gold ... Do you w ant m ore painting, H u nter of the Air?... The blood -jew el of the red bird and the flesh -feather of the rose herons... Do you w ant more painting, H u nter of the Air?... The yellow spots, m oon-egg-yolk bird s, and the bu tterflies, lineage of orchid s, m osaics that fly... Do you w ant more painting, H u nter of the Air?... ...painting yes, serrated beak. MAA probably has in mind the Blue-d iad em ed Motm ot, the best know n species, w ith its cobalt-blue colored crow n, green bod y and black face, and distinctive, racquet -shaped tailfeathers. 1 A troupial. MAA calls them chorchas: “The nam e for various bird s of the genus Icterus. The m ost com m on chorcha is of yellow and black plum age, it sings w ith strength and a m ellifluous voice.” 2 The m orro or calabash tree is w id ely cultivated in Central Am erica for its large, gourd -like fruits, used locally for making cups, d ishes and other containers; som e are ornately carved and painted . The firm , tough tim ber is used for boat ribs, w heel hubs, firew ood and charcoal.

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bu t no magic... There’s no scu lptu re? Is that you r com plaint, H u nter of the Air? The crags, su rfaces and w ater, barely polished , but alread y soaking in front of the sea that scu lpts figu res from fog, fetishes of algae, monsters, snails, sea horses, all in motion... And the high faces of the cord illeras, profiles, effigies, coins of stars... Scu lptu re in stone, in sand banks, cloud s... ...scu lptu re yes, bu t no magic... And the gou rd cu tters w ho ad orn the night w ith tattoos of gold of all colors? And the plu m e-clou d ? The plu mists speak to you ... And the jew el of the w ind ? The gold sm iths speak to you ... They speak clou d shapes to you , Hu nter of the Air! They speak jew els to you , H unter of the Air!

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N AVELS OF SUN AN D PRECIOUS COPALS

TH E LITTLE BON ES OF TH E ECH O on the tongu e of the Forgetfu l Em issary. On the tongu e of the Forgetfu l Em issary, the message of the Gold thinking-star-god s. "May the mist rise early, fragrant w ith tam arind , poplar, suqu inay 1, m ay it spread its cloths over the w ords and may the Fou r Magicians of the Sky be created w ith navels of sun and precious copals. "May they be of black maize, m aize coiled w ith sexes and snakes, their hair, their pu pils and their d reams. "May they be of w hite maize, m aize coiled w ith sperm and the moon, their teeth, the qu icklim e of their corneas, their bones and their nails. "And may their flesh be of yellow maize, m oistened in w ater sw eet w ith the night of the star and skinned w ith qu icklim e in blind boil, the lim e of the eyes of the Tw ohand ed Tattooer, the one w ho w as destroyed along w ith his raisers of w orld s of d ream A m em ber of the Com posite family. MAA: “In the Recordación Florida, one read s that the bees that sip the juice of the flow ers of this plant prod uce a m ost sw eet honey.” 1

35

by the man of mu d w ho in his tu rn w as annihilated by fire, the lau ghter of the stones." And so w as created the Man-of-Fou r-Magics, the one w ho w ears blu egreen feathers of qu etzals and flow ers covered w ith d ew , w ho illu m inates and bu rns like resinou s pine, w ho sets things alight in my cou ntry forged of honey. All w as visible, except for the mom ent of healing the navels w ith w ebs of tobacco sm oke and placing in their fold s, along w ith the copals of splend or and d u st of w orn-ou t w ords, the magic of the three halves. By the magic of the three halves, the half w hich holds things w ithin becom es magnetized by the sole presence of the Man-of-the-Fou r-Magics, issu es from things and penetrates the interior of that w hich com pletes it, before restoring it, w ith an u nknow n half. By the magic of the three halves, there is a half that rem ains in things, another that leaves and retu rns to things and the u nknow n half, the one that magic ad d s.

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MAGICIAN S-MEN -MAGICIAN S

M AGICIAN S-M EN -M AGICIAN S, they appear in the H ou se of the Five Roses, w here tim e is not a d ate bu t an arrow . In the H ou se of the Angles, the house of the frothy d rink of Spanish plu m and agave ju ice 1, the house of banquets that, accord ing to the Chronicler, u sed to conclu d e w ith pastries shaped like d ovecotes from w hich, w hen the cru st, gilt w ith amber toast, w as cu t, live d oves w ou ld em erge and take flight, sprinkling su nflow er su gar on the lau ghter of the d iners. H e of the Copal of Song is there and beyond w ord s. It is not song by w ord , bu t w ord by magic. Prom ising in its prod igy. H e of the Copal of Color is there and beyond birds of plu m age. It is not color by color, bu t color by magic. Prom ising is its prod igy. H e of the Copal of Form is there and beyond the high seas and the w ind . It is not form by form , 1

The Spanish plum , called jocote in Central Am erica, is the fruit of Spondias purpurea of the Cashew family and is found throughout the tropics. Agave juice in Spanish is called aguamiel (“honey-w ater”). The sap of an agave plant called m aguey (the Am erican aloe, or century plant) is used to m ake pulque, a m ilky alcoholic beverage, first d eveloped in pre-Colum bian tim es and still d runk by Mexican Ind ians to this d ay.

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bu t form by magic. Prom ising is its prod igy. H e of the Copal of Sou nd is there and beyond the cotton of trills. It is not sou nd by sou nd , bu t sou nd by magic. Prom ising is its prod igy. The su n w ill chew in the navel of the Magician of Song, an incense-bu rner w ith hot coals of w ord s, the copal of poetry. The su n w ill chew in the navel of the Magician of Color, an incense-bu rner w ith coals of light, the copal of painting. The su n w ill chew in the navel of the Magician of Form , an incense-bu rner w ith volcano stones, the copal of scu lpture. The su n w ill chew in the navel of the Magician of Sou nd , an incense-bu rner w ith acoustic coals, the copal of mu sic. Sacred they are, prom ising is their prod igy, the fou r in a single bod y, the fou r in a single m an. Sacred they are,

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prom ising is their prod igy, the fou r in a single bod y, the fou r in a single m an, a prickly pear w ith fou r head s, not rou nd in form , bu t half moons and faces of porous light, alm ost visible, visible, retained in each half moon, m ysteriou s faces vacant in appearance tu rning in all d irections, like scu lptu res moving in the w ind of intelligence. Sacred they are, prom ising is their prod igy and if their presence is a challenge, w ho w ill cou nter them , H u nter of the Air, w ho w ill cou nter this Fou r-Tim es-H eaven w ith eight arms and eight hand s of palm trees and the constellation of their nails of moon hu sk and razor ed ge, a constellation of forty mirrors on happily moving fingers. Who w ill cou nter this Quad riheaven w ith eyes invisible bu t evid ent in the lu m inou s d ust cloud of his fou r-half-m oon-faces, sustained by fou r necks of virile elegance, eight shou ld ers of torrent stone, eight legs of banana-grove tru nk that hold u p the clusters of sacred organs and eight feet, tongu es w ith toes for the langu age of the d ance.

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The fou r in a single bod y, the fou r in a single m an w ho in ord er to move tu rns like a star follow ed by the earth w hich revolves like a su nflow er u nd er his feet, u nd er his eight tu rning feet, u nd er his eight d ancing feet. The fou r in a single bod y, the fou r in a single m an w ho in ord er to eat pu ts into motion one hu nd red and tw enty-eight teeth, porcelain grindstones for maize, and how d oes one sate his hu n ger w hich begins in color and continu es in flavors... he w ants to d evou r the su n, he w ants to eat mou ntains, he w ants to eat conflagrations, he w ants to d evou r the sky... And how d oes one sate his sense of smell apparent at his eight nostrils, and his tou ch of sid ereal magnets, and his elastic sea skin that, w ithou t breaking, allow s each one of the fou r to go from his magic extrem ity to the center of the earth and retu rn to his ow n corner of the heavens, after passing the sun throu gh the eye of corn, at the mom ent w hen the pierced masks of the calend rical statu es breathe the sacred resins of mid d ay, the mirrors of d iaphanou s quicksilver fu se and the Magician of Color, located in the East,

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hu rries to color the tablets, and the Magician of Form , located in the West, em broid ers stone w ith the near and far of light and shad e, in bas-reliefs, and the Magician of the Word , located in the N orth, w eaves the song of the am anu ensis of contem plations, and the Magician of Sou nd , located in th e Sou th, brings forth the melod y of fervor and u tensil.

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42

HID D EN CRAFTS

TH E POETS, AN ON YMOUS AMANUEN SES, TH E H EELS of the Magician of Song in the house of the N orth, carried their com plaint to the petaled flow er of the ear of the Celestial Hu nters: "The motionless flight of poetry and its u nfold ings in ritu al song, w arrior d ance, w ord play, conversation of d eified hearts, this is ou r secret. To hear seed beds of syllables sprou t and transplant them w ith salivations of the gold en strophe, this is ou r role as thinkers w ith mu sic. We know the pu lse of the lashing rains in the calend rical d raw ing and the colored , polychrom e calligraphy of sym bols and astrological prophecies; bu t, passed over by the Magician of Song, w e can’t be more than w ord cad avers, ou r tongu es perforated w ith metaphor arrow s." Onto w hat liana of silence d o they fasten bells, d rops of w ater, fish scales, fragments of glass, pieces of w ood , fingernails of metal, in tests of new resou nd ing rains, those w ho are the Invisible Back of the Visible Magician, he of the Copal of Music, in his house of the Sou th? What canes, toasted over low flam e, d o they pierce in search of the pathetic trill? What stones polished w ith tobacco d o they u se to iron the d ru m skins? In w hat millennial liquor d o they soak the ocarina, the tortoise, the snail, the stone for the keys of the m arim bas? Silent is the lam ent of anonym ous musicians in the qu estions

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that fly to the ear of the Celestial H u nters. They w alked in the house of the lu minou s cactus, the painters, statu es w ithou t feet, only eyes, like the Magician of Color in his hou se of the East... Anonym ou s and absent they are, and this their lam ent at the ear of the H u nters, those w ho entered and exited from the blu es of w ood d ye, from the bleed ing achiotes 1, from the d ivine pu rples robbed from cru staceans of the Sou thern Sea, from the oily blacks, the lim estone w hites, the ochres of mud , the yellow s, pollen or gold d u st, the greens of grou nd em erald s, the ru d d y land s, the taw ny guapinoles 2... Theirs is the secret of the porous w oods, of the tablets of hairless su rface, treated w ith honey, w ax or seru m , and theirs is the secret of the flexible skins and the terror-stru ck skins that stretched d eath... Silent, anonym ou s, absent, the lu m inou s cactus in their pu pils, the lam ent in their painting... And the stonecu tters? The seas of their eyes hold floes of stone. A chip alw ays sails in the eye of the stonecu tter. Who sm ooths the m ass? Who converts it to a need lelike stela? Who robs its w eight w ith grooves? They d o, all is the w ork of their hand s, and of that they com plain. 1

A shrub or sm all tree, 6 to 20 feet high, w id ely planted in tropical Am erica because of the orange d ye obtained from the seed s. MAA: “The seed has a fine pow d er that has m ultiple uses in m edicine, d yeing and cooking. Bija (from the Carib bija, flesh-colored , red )...” 2 Com m only called the locust tree in British Am erica. A source of copal.

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The forgotten back of the Scu lptor Magician, they d enou nce their anonym ity to the ear of the Celestial Hu nters. N o, the light of the sky is not enou gh in the hu nt for the feather's d ow n and calm , slow , sed entary — in coffers of crocod ile hid e, cerem onial vestm ents ablaze, testim ony to the expense of their eyes — the plu m ists speak to the H u nters, u nited in their lam ent w ith the w eavers of substances, so many sym bols, d ivinations, astral w isd oms and calculations are w arped in the fabrics, u nited w ith the gourd cu tters, fragrant w ith acid honey, their hand s ever d ark w ith nije varnish, and alw ays w id e aw ake, alive, alert to the u se of the pick in tattooing the calabash cu ps, and w ith the goldsm iths, coaxers of gold , and w ith the potters, those w ith the em pty hand s... w here d o the vases go, the vessels, the ju gs, the kettles, earthen pitchers, beaters and glazed crockery? To w hat lightning flash w ithou t d estiny? To w hat lips w ithou t kisses? To w hat fire w ithou t flam e? What earth trem or jolts them ? What w ater sw eats from their thirsty pores? A d ew of tears soaked the petaled flow er of the ear of the Celestial Hu nters, before the igu ana of afternoon cou ld blister the clou d s and the night cou ld seek, for polishing d ream s, the pom ad es kept in the vase of the essences.

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46

THE CELESTIAL HUN TERS

"G OLDTH IN KIN G -STARS! G OD -EYES! Gold blazing goldqu ivering God -Eyes, gold d istant stars! God -Eyes! This is ou r proclamation, this is ou r challenge! "We Celestial H u nters hoist the banners of the black d ew , the sw eat of crafts, and w e set ou t for the cou ntry w here there are more flow ers than land , broken is the pact w ith the bu tterfly of lava w ings, broken are the jew els of the friend ship that in the heavens w ill continu e to celebrate its birthd ay. "We set ou t on the hu nt of Quad riheaven, the Man of the Magics the Man of the Four Magics, the Man of the Four N avels of Fire, bu rners of the fou r precious copals of life — poetry, painting, mu sic, scu lptu re — for the exclusive d elight of the eyes and ears of the god s visible in the holes of the night. "Face to face w ith his creators, Let ou r challenge be spoken and ou r proclamation heard ! "We’ll hu nt Quad riheaven, w ho plays the tyrant in his abod es located in the fou r petals of the celestial rose, over those w ho are his heels, his back, his hands,

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his shad ow s, his am anu enses, his speechcadavers, his tribu taries, w ithou t perm itting — as it d oesn’t please the god ly Eyes and Ears — that they leave their confinem ent and take the celebration of their craft into the pu blic plazas. "Face to face w ith his creators, Let ou r challenge be spoken and ou r proclamation heard ! "We’re head ing for the cou ntry of mirrors, the region w here there are more flow ers than land . We’re setting ou t to hu nt Quad riheaven, w ithou t know ing his nam e, w ithou t know ing his d ance, w ithou t know ing his mask, aw are that the rivers of his blood cannot be navigated by the barqu es of d eath. "We’re setting ou t to hu nt the Man of the Magics, Fou r-Tim es-H eaven, he w ho w eeps volcanic lava to obscu re the black d ew of ou r banners, the sw eat of ou r crafts. "H u nters to earth!" w as the cry and d ow n from the sky they came, in ships of plu m es, the Chieftain and his H orizon -Eagles. The Chieftain of Hu nters, Eagle of Trees, he of the green tracks painted on the land , tasting of green tracks that leave trees as they go — the w ind rises, and keeps licking the leaves, gathering them , separating them ,

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w hirling them rou nd — green tracks of the Chieftain of H u nters, Eagle of Trees, a taloned eagle am id a tem pest of green leaves, his bod y a gold en qu ince tree sm eared w ith d eer fat, the shield on his arm tattooed w ith green serpents and his qu etzal-plum e arrow pointed tow ard mid d ay. Fou r w ere the magics and five the hu nters. Eagle of Su n Fireflies, he of the yellow tracks painted on the land , tasting of yellow tracks that leave shooting stars as they go — the w ind rises and keeps licking flickering gold w orks — H u nter from the Fou r H u nd red H u nter-Stars, Eagle of Su n Fireflies, yellow his honey locks on his shou ld ers, beneath cascad es of gold en plu m es, of hu m id constellation his shield , of light that fad es and flares, the point of his arrow s, of his arrow that fad es and flares, pointed tow ard the West. Fou r w ere the magics and five the hu nters. Eagle of Dreams, he of the black tracks painted not on the land , bu t beneath the grou nd , a H u nter w ho m oves w ith his head u nd er the land , tasting of black tracks, the w ind rises and keeps licking the du st, licking the black tracks of the missing, Eagle of Dreams, of d ark breeze his plu m es, of slate his shield , of lava the point of his eyeless arrow s,

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of his blind arrow pointed tow ard mid night. Fou r w ere the magics and five the hu nters. Eagle of Fire, he of the red tracks painted on the land tasting of tracks of coral that leave hearts as they go, the w ind lifts its tongu e and keeps licking the blood in slau ghterhouses, battlefields, sacrificial altars, Eagle of Fire, his ears, verm ilion bu tterflies in the conflagration of his plu m age, of u nqu enchable hot coals his shield , of flam es his arrow s, his arrow of su n liqu or pointed tow ard the East. Fou r w ere the magics and five the hu nters. Eagle of Clou d s, he of the w hite traces, half moons painted on the land tasting of mists that move on feathered feet, the w ind lifts its tongu e and licks the qu icklim e, w hite his plu m es, w hite his skin, w hite his teeth, Eagle of Clou d s, corpu lent and alm ost w eightless, snow y his shield , antarctic his bow and his polar arrow pointed tow ard the moon. Fou r w ere the magics and five the hu nters.

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THE HUN T

"M Y TRACKS ARE WATER EMERALDS, I’m Chieftain of H unters, Chieftain of Arrow heavens Am I, Chief of Celestial H u nters, m y tracks are w ater em erald s!" "Like the qu etzal, you go on... — I go on... ah, if I’d stop!" "Ay, if you ’d stop, the earth feed s on tracks, life joined to d eath in you r su nw ater-river-tracks... tracks... tracks... the earth feed s on tracks... w ings... w ings... the sky feed s on w ings...!" "My tracks, yellow flow er pollen, w ithou t my tracks there’s nothing, nothing exists, nothing tu rns, that’s w ho I am , the one w ho tu rns, m y tracks are su nflow ers that shine!" "Like the su n, you go on... — I go on... ah, if I’d stop!" "Ay, if you ’d stop,

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the earth feed s on tracks, life joined to d eath in you r tracks of a string of reflections... tracks... tracks... the land feed s on tracks... w ings... w ings... the sky feed s on w ings...!" "I leave my tracks, black bu tterfly w ings, w ithou t my tracks nothing goes beyond life, that’s w ho I am , the one w ho goes beyond life, m y tracks are flying obsid ian w ings!" "Like the night, you go on... — I go on... ah, if I’d stop!" "Ah, if you ’d stop, there’s a necklace of eyes that w atches u s from the sky, life joined to d eath in you r eye-necklace tracks... tracks... tracks... the earth feed s on tracks... w ings... w ings... the sky feed s on w ings...!" "Withou t my tracks, w aterm oons of moon, the sea w ou ld d ie and the one w ho sm okes tobacco in eclipses w ou ld lose his eyes in the sm oke; that’s w ho I am , the one w ho accompanies the sea in its tid es and the one w ho sm okes tobacco in eclipses!"

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"Like the moon, you go on... — I go on... ah, if I’d stop!" "Ay, if you ’d stop, the earth feed s on tracks, life joined to d eath in you r tracks of eclipses and tid es... tracks... tracks... the earth feed s on tracks... w ings... w ings... the sky feed s on w ings...!" "Tiger of red -onion paces, m y tracks go from the heart to the su n; that’s w ho I am , the track of throbbing blood that spu rts from the bonfire of the breasts to the solar conflagration..." "Like blood you go on... — I go on... ah, if I’d stop!" "Ay, if you ’d stop, the earth feed s on tracks, life joined to d eath in you r tracks of blood y feet... tracks... tracks... the earth feed s on tracks... w ings... w ings... the sky feed s on w ings...!" "Ah, if I’d stop...!" "Ay, if you ’d stop...!"

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Like the qu etzal I go on... You go on like the su n... Like the night I go on... You go on like the m oon... Like blood I go on... You go on like the qu etzal... Like the su n I go on... You go on like the night... Like the moon I go on... You go on like blood ... "Ah, if I’d stop...!" "Ay, if you ’d stop...!" The earth feeds on tracks of light-giving maize, a single ear of maize and all the su n rad iant w ith qu etzal w ings that change the color of the sky, a single qu etzal and all the sky green, w ith threads of rain, w ith thread s of blood , the earth feed s on blood ... life and d eath in the hu nters' tracks... tracks... tracks... life and d eath... tracks... tracks... robin-red -breast-tw ilight tracks... tracks... life and d eath... tracks... tracks... yellow faced -daw n tracks... tracks... tracks... life and d eath... tracks... tracks... heron-feather-jew el tracks... tracks... life and d eath... tracks... tracks... obsid ian-d ustclou d tracks... tracks... tracks... "Ah, if you ’d stop...!" "Ay, if I’d stop...!" "Ah, if you ’d stop,

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you’d see the tracks vanish, the food of the earth, in the mirror of a beast that d evou rs them , a beast that changes colors accord ing to the track it takes...!" "Ah, if you ’d stop...!" "Ay, if I’d stop...!" "Ah, if you ’d stop you’d see the beast that changes colors accord ing the track taken; a mirror of blood y foam ... if it steals the red track... a mirror of d ark foam ... if it steals the black track... a mirror of solar foam ... if it steals the yellow track... a mirror of lake foam ... if it steals the green track... a mirror of d iam ond foam ... if it steals the w hite track...!" "Ah, if I’d stop...!" "Ay, if you ’d stop...!"

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Eagle of Trees raises his Chieftain arrow and harangu es the hu nters: "H orizon Eagles! Archers of the Sky! Arrow heavens! Plu m e w ings on our head s! Plu m e w ings on our shou ld ers! Plu m e w ings on our arm s! Plu m e w ings on our feet! Clou d -H ead s! Mou ntain-Shou ld ers! H orizon-Arm s! Wind -Feet! Celestial H u nters of the lost tracks, som eone speaks in the house of the heartbeat, som eone shou ts in the house of the heartbeat, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat, som eone w arns of the d anger of the beast that steals ou r tracks, lightning-flash skin that w ill tu rn the gold en tracks of the Yellow Archer to incend iary ash; river-tribu tary skin that w ill tu rn my Green Archer tracks to w ater reflection; m oon skin that w ill d raw sm oke from the tracks of the White Eagle H unter; m id night skin that w ill blot ou t the tracks of the Black Eagle H u nter; battlefield skin that w ill leave not an ash of the tracks of the Red Eagle H u nter!"

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...som eone speaks, som eone shou ts, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat... Som eone w arns of the d anger of the stealer of tracks, a small lizard w ith long legs, prehensile tail and a lone im m obile eye... ...som eone speaks, som eone shou ts, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat... Som eone w arns of the d anger of the beast that lives w ithou t eating, of the beast that changes colors accord ing to the track that it reflects, a mirror of a tail, sharp claw s and a lone im m obile eye... ...som eone speaks, som eone shou ts, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat... Som eone w arns of the d anger of the mirror that d rinks no w ater, of the mirror that d oes not eat, of the one that feed s on air, of the beast w ith mirror skin that catches fire, bleed s itself, tu rns green again, d enies the light, d resses in snow , accord ing to the track it reflects, sapphire-skin, coral-skin, jad eite-skin,

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m agnet-skin, pearl-skin...

...som eone speaks, som eone shou ts, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat... Eagle of Trees raises his Chieftain arrow and harangu es the hu nters: "Qu ad riheaven, the Man -of-the-Magics, Deceiving Mirror, Grand Rainbow , d evou rs ou r tracks... What are the tracks, Eagle H u nters? The hou se of the heartbeat may answ er... And thu s, before the light it may be said , before the ceibas, before the sparrow haw ks, if Deceiving Mirror, Great Rainbow , d evou rs ou r tracks, before the light it m ay be said , before the horizons, he w ill not rem ember us, he steals ou r absence..." ...som eone speaks, som eone shou ts, som eone cries ou t in the hou se of the heartbeat...

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"If the rain of you r arrow s w ould stop him ...!" "If the rain of my arrow s w ou ld stop him ...!" The most lu m inou s of the hu nters, he of the flashing su n-fireflies, hu rls the first arrow s, he believes he has w ou nd ed the beast of changing colors and ru ns to fetch the prey, bu t find s it only d azed by the fad e and flare of the eyes of his firefly arrow s. "If the rain of my arrow s w ou ld stop him ...!" "If the rain of you r arrow s w ould stop him ...!" Eagle of Fire com es u p in a lightning bolt, shou ts, leaps, cu rls, lau nches his arrow s of flame, bu t he too fails to hit the mark, d eceived by the changing colors of the fleeing beast. "If the rain of you r arrow s w ould stop him ...!" "If the rain of my arrow s w ou ld stop him ...!" Eagle of Clou d s slips cau tiou sly aw ay, he hold s on his arrow 's point the secret of the transparent flint. If he w ou nd s him he w ill convert him to crystal and , once converted , it w ill be enou gh to shatter him to pu t an end to Quad riheaven w ithou t spilling blood ... Bu t H u nter of Dream s moves past him, plu m es of darkness, noctu rnal bow ,

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arrow tipped w ith black slate. H e shoots and hits the mark, into the w hite of the fixed eye of the beast that bleed s from the cornea, the only w eak spot on his bod y, the w hite of his eye in w hich colors sleep. H e pales... he fad es... he bleed s... ay, his rainbow blood , the qu icksilver of his irid escent mirror blood ... H e trem bles... he cringes... Colors are his blood su gar... H e moves his prehensile tail... seeking... to cling... bu t w here... to the tracks... to the clou d s... to the trees... to the barkings of the pestering moon... to the braid ed volcanoes, to their braid s of scorched lava... to the resou nd ing lightning bolts, d ried leaves throu gh w hich the H u nter of Dreams com es bou nd ing to retrieve his d ying prey, the w ou nd ed beast... "It w as... m e... m y arrow ...!" "It w as... m e... m y arrow ...!" The cataclysm petrified the silence, a stone for constru cting eternities, as the beast w ith mirror skin shatters in the black gloved hand s of the Hu nter of Dreams, and , converted to a tangle of liqu id crystals, it flees noiselessly from ravine to ravine, leaving behind silent rainbow ed cataracts, falls of colored w ater, irid escent-bu tterfly-rivers, living-stone-rivers, garnet-tw ilight-rivers,

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opal-rivers, pearl-rivers, lapis-lazu li-rivers, liquefied -am ethyst-rivers, inspired -em erald -rivers, liqu id -gold -rivers, glass-bead -rivers... rivers... rivers... rivers that form a lake of mirror skin, a lake that changes color every instant, at every su rge, at every stroke of light, at every gust of w ind ... Tim e stops beneath the feet of the hu nters w ho tu rn in the heights of the cord illera, not d aring to d escend to the lake that changes colors... they tu rn in the w hirlw ind of their su nflow er breath... tu rningskies... tu rningclou ds... tu rningm ou ntains... they tu rn... they tu rn... not d aring to d escend to the lake... they tu rn... they tu rn... they tu rn... not hu nters... clou d shapes... clou d shapes over the mou ntains...

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62

D ATES OF STON E

"IF TH E C ELESTIAL H UN TERS WOULD COME DOWN and copy their red -clou d language in m y mirrors, sm oke w ith me the gold en tobacco that falls from the flicker of the stars, w e’d speak the langu age of mirrors... In place of w ord s they’d sprinkle their im ages in my w aters. To copy an im age is to und erstand it and it’s so easy to be u nd erstood w ith im ages, w ithou t w ord s, w ith thou ght transform ed into a w ind -blast of colors..." "If w e Celestial H unters w ou ld com e d ow n and copy ou r red -clou d language in you r mirrors, sm oke w ith you the gold en tobacco that falls from the flicker of the stars, w e’d speak the langu age of mirrors, bu t the fish that w ith every movem ent elu d es the hooks that su rround it, som e w ith fou r barbs, alread y penetrates you r ears, you r ears su rrou nded w ith circu lar w aves, hoops of crystal plum es, and falls into the nets of you r u nd erstand ing w ith ou r proclamation of w ar." "The fish that w ith every w ord m u st make thou sand s of moves to elu d e the hooks that su rround it, som e w ith fou r barbs, alread y sw ims in my ears, a messenger of w ar, in my ears su rrou nd ed w ith circu lar w aves, hoops of crystal plum es,

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and so it w ou ld be better if the Celestial H u nters approached my mirrors... Then, w ithou t end angering the fish su rrou nd ed by hooks, w e’d u nd erstand each other w ith im ages." "Ou r w ord , ou r proclamation, before the skies, before the earth, let it be said , d em and s first the su rrend er of Quad riheaven, he of the magic copals, he w ho in the Fou r Knots of the Shaw l creates for the god -eyes, only for the god -eyes, and to the taste of the god -eyes, d evou rers of scu lptu re and painting, the visual arts of color and form , and creates the au ditives of sou nd and song for the god -ears only for the god -ears and to the taste of the god -ears, d evou rers of music and poetry, to the d etrim ent of cond em ned artists, by not measu ring their arts, being, blind , d eaf, m u te, arm less, anonymous and absent... "And so, face to face w ith the banner of black d ew , the sw eat of crafts, the d ates of stone set in ou r proclam ation of w ar and the horizons captive — pu m as and jaguars accom pany u s — w e d escend like lightning bolts w ith thu nd er-d ru m feet, to d em and of the lake

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the su rrend er of Quad riheaven, hid d en in its w aters of colors changing like the mirror skin of the stealer of tracks w ho, m ortally w ound ed , escaped from the grasp of the N octu rnal Celestial Hu nter." Storm of bird s, storm of clou d s, storm of arrow s, the ou tw itted hu nter d ances, the H u nter of Dream s d ances, his crest ad orned w ith heavenly bod ies, his d arkness sm oking w ith stars. Storm of feathers, storm of tracks, storm of arrow s, the ou tw itted hu nter d ances, the H u nter of Dream s d ances as he lead s the hu nters d ow n from the high mou ntains to the sleeping blu e d ish. Storm of bird s, storm of clou d s, storm of arrow s, storm of tracks, the ou tw itted hu nter d ances, the H u nter of Dream s d ances, his crest ad orned w ith heavenly bod ies his d arkness sm oking w ith stars, black black arrow black black track besid e the Green-Green-Arrow -Chieftain, green green tracks,

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H and s-w ings-antecham bers-of-the-blue-gestu res-sky-chieftains, not far, in clou d -d istance, from the H unter of the Sou th, w hite w hite arrow w hite w hite tracks, follow ed by the tracks of blood of the H u nter that sees the East, red red arrow red red tracks, and in the reargu ard the yellow H u nter w ith his arrow pointed tow ard the West. Storm of arrow s, storm of tracks, storm that d ances along u nsettled road s in the clou d s, betw een precipices of prickly-pear cotton, groves of evergreen oaks 1, penu m bras of hot tar, m ists of breathable m ilk, flow ers w ithou t roots, aquatic moss, arroyos of w ater stu ttering among the stones and sw eet-nostriled stags sniffing the silence w hipped by the eyelashes of the pines. A storm that d ances, storm of arrow s, storm of feathers, storm of tracks, black, red , green, w hite, yellow ... seed bed s of flow ers that go round the lake w ithou t show ing them selves to its mirrors, the lake that sinks one skin and brings u p another, sinks its lake skin and brings u p its sky skin, sinks its sky skin and brings u p its volcano skin, sinks its volcano skin and brings u p its sand skin, 1

MAA calls them encinales.

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sinks its sand skin and brings u p its steel skin, sinks its steel skin and brings u p its charcoal skin. A storm that d ances, storm of arrow s, storm of feathers, storm of tracks black, red , green, w hite, yellow ... a rainbow em itted on a hund red colored feet tow ard the lu m inou s mirror, on a hund red feet of colors and su bstances, clou d s, su ns, saps, chlorophylls, vegetal milks, chocolate-tree blood , netw orks of roots, nu rseries of breathings, su lfates, volcanic hot springs, little fig trees greenish w ith calcined thorns, ichintals and yu ccas, ru m inant tuberoses 1 w ith fou r stomachs or more, balsams, resins, subterranean beehives, granu les 2 of granite, every w asp as d ark as silver, blow flies, bu tterflies, reptiles, bu lrushes, fishes, frogs, toad s, snails in slim e, little snakes coated w ith w ater... "In my mirrors you’ll see you rself more lu m inou s!" said the lake to the Rainbow , a gigantic centiped e that approaches w ith steps of colors... "In my mirrors you’ll see you rself more lu m inou s!" "Bu t one can’t live u psid e d ow n...," answ ered the Rainbow , a gigantic centiped e w ith the voice of the five hu nters. "And how d o they live in my mirrors, the sky, 1 2

Tuberous plant native to Mexico and know n for its fragrant w hite flow ers. The Spanish w ord here, granitos, is a play on w ord s, because it also m eans “silkw orm eggs.”

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the mou ntains, the w illow trees, the volcanoes?" pressed the lake, sw aying back and forth. "Upsid e d ow n they live in my crystal entrails, the su n, the moon, the bright stars, and if you appear in my mirrors you’ll stop being w hat you w ere, a painted centiped e am ong the clou d s, a fiction of rain and su n, and you’ll be transform ed into a serpent of splend or, a serpent of plu m es of colors coiled at the bottom of my fair spread w aters." "If I appeared in you r mirrors," cried the Rainbow , "you ’d change me as you you rself changed , you sheller of em erald s, ever happy becau se you ’re never the sam e in the w ave-su rge of you r calend ars, in you r mirrors pierced w ith clocks of bubbles." "Then go back to you r d ates of stone," shou ted the lake, "you poor fragm ent of a rainbow , painted centiped e, fiction of rain and su n, before the bright stars leap from my mirrors and shatter you r image w ith gold blazing pecks!" Upsid e d ow n in the u nm oving lake, the lofty cu rve of the sky transform ed into a ham mock of flickering stars, head first, the volcanoes, inverted pyram id s, the trees of w eeping plu m age, all head first, except for the hu nters, the Archers of the Sky, H orizon-Eagles w ho subtracted their im age from the mirror, the stealer of tracks,

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the u nm oving lake, w ithou t w aves, w ithou t claw s, w ater of the d ark motm ot of the low land s, w ater of the blu e macaw on the lu cid banks, w ater of the green parakeet in the shad e of the w illow trees, w ater of the nickel d u ck or foam of d ove on the shores w here the hu nters lingered , before the assau lt, their tracks in lu m inou s fans that transform ed the lake, refu ge of the only artists, into a mirror of peacock tail.

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70

MOVIN GROOT OF THE FLOWER OF THE AIR

M OVIN GROOT OF TH E FLOWER OF TH E A IR, w hat d o the Hu nters d ream ? Eagle of Fire, root of blood -tree1 root, red his tracks in the fan of tracks that go rou nd the lake, before the assault, he d ream s that he sets the lake afire (the most terrible of nightm ares, like au gu ry: the w ater in flam es), to scorch Quad riheaven, the Man -of-the-Magics w ho, transform ed to a manikin of straw , flees from the colored mirrors. Movingroot of the Flow er of the Air, w hat d o the Hu nters d ream ? Eagle of Dreams, root of morro-tree root, black his tracks in the fan of tracks that go rou nd the lake, before the assault, he d ream s that he w ou nd s anew the m agnetic eye, lightly sw eet, of the mirror-beast stealer of tracks, prey that now w ou nded escapes from his grasp and tu rns itself into a lake. Movingroot of the Flow er of the Air, w hat d o the Hu nters d ream ? Eagle of Clou d s, 1

The blood tree or árbol de sangre is a hard w ood tree that ranges from Belize and Guatem ala to Panam a. The w ood , w hen freshly cut, is pale brow n, but it turns a d ark red , often w ith a purplish hue. It is sometim es know n as the banak tree.

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root of milk-tree1 root, w hite his tracks in the fan of tracks that go rou nd the lake, before the assault, he d ream s that a storm of hail pu ts Qu ad riheaven, the Man -of-the-Magics, to flight, transform ed into a d oll of frost, a d oll w ith fou r head s, eight arm s, eight legs, eight feet... Movingroot of the Flow er of the Air, w hat d o the Hu nters d ream ? Eagle of Fireflies, root of yellow mother-of-cacao 2 root, yellow his tracks in the fan of tracks that go rou nd the lake, before the assault, an arrow that fad es and flares, pointed tow ard the West, he d ream s that from a lightning bolt of sunflow ers the Man-of-the-Magics leaps, converted into an ear of yellow maize. Movingroot of the Flow er of the Air, w hat d o the Hu nters d ream ? Eagle of Trees, root of green-cou ntry root, green his tracks in the fan of tracks that go rou nd the lake, before the assault, an arrow of com m and pointed tow ard m id d ay, he d ream s that he w ou nd s Qu ad riheaven, that he w ou nds and snatches Qu ad riheaven, the id ol of the bu nd le that his entrails conceal, Probably a tallow tree. Called leche de M aría (“Mary's m ilk”) in Belize. A short-boled tree, often less than 25 feet high, resem bling an apple tree and com m on in Central Am erica. They are planted as living fence posts, to shad e and protect cacao plantations (hence the nam e). The leaves and roots are said to be poisonous to rats and m ice. 1 2

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an id ol of transparent lava, a god -eye form ed by the rain.

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74

THE D AN CE OF THE CHIMERAS

"TH IS OUR WORD , OUR VOICE, ou r challenge, ou r m anifesto!" "The stars w ou ld not rise into the heavens w ithou t being scu lpted ... And w ho scu lpts them ? I, scu lptor of stars in my H ou se of the West..." "Music is born heard , like the springs, the w aterfalls... There’s no need of other ears... the god -ears and my ears su ffice... It’s born w ith little ears of crystal and foam and is recreated by itself... Why bring it to ears that w ou ld n’t cou rt it, as I d o, in my H ou se of the Sou th?" "What ship is lau nched in the sea of subterranean d arkness w ithou t being painted , and w ho paints it, w ho d ecorates the grottoes and caverns that row in the d epths beneath the earth, bu t I... and the N ights w ou ld they rise into the sky w ithout being tattooed w ith gold ? And w ho d resses them in gou rd -cu p tattoos bu t I... painter, engraver and gou rd cu tter in my H ou se of the East..." "And the god s, d espite their stony contextu re, their eyes that em it fire of volcanic phosphorus,

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their lizards' teeth, their jaguars' claw s, their ocelots' hid es, their nostrils, w here hu m m ingbird s feign respiration, and their hearts that requ ire that life be recreated w ith hearts, w ou ld they exist w ithou t m e? I nou rish them w ith my songs and poem s in my H ou se of the N orth..." Thus they said , reunited on the blu e d ish, H e-sings-copal, he of the H ouse of the N orth, H e-thu nd ers-copal, he of the H ouse of the Sou th, H e-paints-copal, he of the H ouse of the East, H e-scu lpts-copal, he of the H ouse of the West. Bu t the hu nters w ere alread y d ancing, d ancing and speaking: "We hear you r voice, you r copal, bu t just as the god s requ ire food from their creatu res and w ou ld n’t exist if their creatu res d id n’t feed them existence — to exist is to feed the god s — so painting requ ires food from the eyes and w ou ld n’t exist if the eyes d id n’t feed it, only by seeing can you feed painting and seeing isn’t seeing w ith the pu pils of the god -eyes alone bu t seeing w ith the eyes of all those w ho see, and poetry requ ires food from the ears, and w ou ld n’t exist if the ears d id n’t feed it, only by hearing can you feed poetry, and scu lptu re requ ires food from the eyes, and w ou ld n’t exist if the eyes d id n’t feed it, only by looking can you feed scu lptu re, and mu sic requ ires food from the ears and w ou ld n’t exist if the ears d id n’t feed it,

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only by hearing can you feed music and hearing isn’t hearing w ith the ears of the god -ears alone bu t hearing w ith the ears of all those that hear..." Bu t alread y they w ere d ancing, d ancing the d ance of the arrow s... N ine tu rns arou nd the Word goes the Blood -Tracks-Archer... Poetry pierced by red arrow s... Seven tu rns around the Sou nd goes Clou d -Tracks-Archer... Music pierced by heron-branch-arrow s... Thirteen tu rns around the Form goes Shad e-Tracks-Archer... Scu lptu re pierced by arrow s of d arkness... Fou r tu rns fou r arou nd the Color goes Su n-Tracks-Archer... Painting pierced by yellow arrow s... Jingling vines in the d iad em s of com bat... Voices, shou ts, the shock of shield s and the d izzying com e and go of fly-w arriors mu ltiplied by the flow of battle, grasshopper-w arriors, fireball-w arriors adorned w ith com et-fire plu m es, lu m inou s reflection-w arriors, broken to pieces in the w ater of flickering fire, tongu es of serpents, papillary bubbles, a conflagration am ong the ru shes, arrow s that the lake, w ou nd ed , fails to hu rl...

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aguayayay 1... w ou nd ed ... agu ayayay... aguayayay the w ou nd ed lake, u nable to hu rl its ru shes against the black-d ew -arrow rain of the Celestial H unters... agu ayayay... aguayayay...w ave after w ave w ou nd ed... w ave after w ave pecked by the black d ew of the arrow s green, w hite, red , black, yellow , and w ou nd ed are its battling su rf sw ells, its liqu id w arriors w ho set ou t to oppose their crystal-snail chests against the hu nters that d ance, after the d ance of the arrow s, the d ance of the chim eras... ... Agu ayayay, w ound ed ... the lake w ou nd ed ...

1

An Asturias com pound, com bining agua (w ater) and a triple repetition of ay (an exclam ation of pain, fear or d ism ay). Another Asturianism that follow s shortly is aguacamay, w hich com bines agua (w ater) and guacamaya (m acaw ) and perhaps ay. Other such com pound s in this part of the poem are melaguaj and melajuag

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w ave after w ave w ou nd ed ... w ave after w ave pecked by arrow s red black green w hite yellow green w hite red black yellow black red green w hite yellow aguayayay... aguayayay... m elaguaj... m elaguaj... the w ind w ou nd ed ... the w ind also w ound ed ... m elajuag... m elajuag... the w ind w ou nd ed

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and w ou nd ed are the trees covered w ith corpses of fru its pierced by d arts mad e from the beaks of w hite macaw s hu rled from the bow s snow y eyebrow s of the H u nter of the Sou th Eagle of Clou d s w hite his frill w hite his crest w hite his arrow s beaks of w hite macaw s ay-aguacamay agu acamay the w ind w ou nd ed m elagu aj m elagu aj w ou nd ed w ith feathers of fire macaw s frost macaw s that peck fru its flow ers leaves nests... ay-aguacamay... aguacamay... w ou nd ed is the w ind m elagu aj m elagu aj w ou nd ed is the lake agu ayayay aguayayay the lake of changing paintings changing colors changing lights changing shad ow s

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changing w ave-su rge beast w ith mirror skin arrow ed again by the H u nter of Dream s w ho snatches u p in his hand s, gloved in black sunflow ers, in place of d arts, m oon bells a sou nd that w ou nd s a crash that kills hum m ingbird s (bird flybird flybird fly 1... the hu m m ingbirds say as they fall) w ithou t d istu rbing the blood -d rinking silence, that accom panies the H u nter Plu m ed in Red , he of the naseberry 2 skin, he of the verm ilion ears. The chocolate liqu or and fire d u st inflam e him and im m ortal is the victim that he intoxicates w ith d eath, using his arrow s of fire macaw feathers ay-aguacamay-ay ay-aguacamay aguacamay of fire aguacamay and w ou nd ed is the lake aguayayay aguayayay by arrow s of colors a rainbow storm a rainbow storm of colored arrow s hu rled from the bow s of the Eagle-Horizon-Hu nters. Their crests the color of their arrow s, In the Caribbean and parts of Central America, “bird fly” (pájaro mosca) is another name for hummingbird (colibrí). 1

2

The sapod illa plum , fruit of the sapod illa tree, yellow -brow n or russet in color. Called zapote in Central Am erica.

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their tracks the color of their crests, as are their plu mage, their bu cklers, their d ru m s, their collars, their jew els... sharp -pointed arrow s and a plu m e of perfu m ed cu rls... w ou nd ing w ithou t killing, w ou nd ing, perfu m ing in the arrow ed lake the im age of the Captive Quad riheaven aguayayay ay-aguayayay the lake also captive and w ith the lake the sky ay-aguayayay aguayayay lake, sky and Quadriheaven captives of the mirror of the w ater, bound hand and foot, at the very bottom , w ith chains of subterranean rivers, flow ing w ith sw eet em erald s, and on the su rface, on ISLAN D S of springtim e verd u re, ISLAN D S that float and d isappear at the w him of the lake, ISLAN D S on w hich the Green Archer rests his feet, Eagle of Trees, Chieftain of the H unters, setting his qu etzalplu m e arrow on the bow of his palpitation and hu rling it into the blue

blu e

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the throu gh cend s asit as that an arrow d escend s throu gh the m irror of the lake to w ou nd Quad riheaven agu ayayay aguayayay Quad riheaven w ound ed ... w ou nd ed by the reflection of an arrow in the w ater ay-aguayayay agu ayayay tru ly w ou nd ed , w ou nd ed by the reflection of an arrow that in tearing his flesh of transparent lava, d isentangles copals, su ns, navels, sou nd s, m agics, foams, bubbles, w ord s, tattoos, colors, m acaw s of frost, m acaw s of fire aguacamay-ay aguacamay

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the w ind the w ind the w ind m elagu aj m elagu aj the w ind u nraveled, d isentangled are the foams, the navels, the su ns, the copals, the magics, the cabalistic bu bbles, the bubbles that w ere taken by the Gold thinking-star-god s to make the Man-of-the-Fou r-Magics, fou r head s, eight arm s, eight eyes, eight hand s, eight legs, fou r hearts, the man fou r tim es navel, fou r tim es virile, fou r tim es artist, painter, scu lptor, mu sician, poet, the Man-of-the-Four-Magics-of-H eaven w ho in tru th w as of bu bbles of maize w ater and all his art of bubbles, a flow er that lived in his hands and beyond his hands the instant of all bubbles, of all the ephem eral species. Music of bubble holes, the melod y of his reed . Music of bubbling em ptiness, the tu n-tun of the hollow logs. And chill mu sic, the crash of the tiny globes of resou nd ing air on the su rface of the keys of the marimbas. And all his art of bu bbles, a flow er that lived in his hands and beyond his hands the instant of all bubbles, of all the ephem eral species. H is poetry of blood bu bbles, protected in the tem ples by the qu etzalbites of the sacred tu fts, rises from the boiling of the tropic of Cancer and opens flow ers of syru p, breathers of honey,

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to all that boils, to all that exists, real or sketched by m iniatu rists w ho cover w ith bubbling w riting skins and bone-colored barks. And all his art of bu bbles. Walls painted w ith qu etzals, w alls painted w ith serpents, figu res painted alive over the mortar and treated afterw ard in the sw eet gold of the atm osphere. Tem ples of jaguars that sw im among bu bbles of stone, calend rical ciphers, rou nd bubbles of the mathematics of constellations. Elastic ball-players behind the ru bber bu bble that crosses the solitary hoop of the pelota gam e, an im age fleeting and fu gitive from his art of trills, from his art of bubbles now w ou nd ed ... World s u nfastened , substances set free, confines u ntied , the fou r corners of the sky d em agnetized , flow ers stripped of leaves, bird s shattered , the rain shells its maize, it captu res the lake in prisons of thread and d elivers it to the triu m phant Rainbow , Sir Seven Tim es Precious, the Rainbow w ho ad vances w ith the feet of the hu nters, w ithou t d anger of falling, coiled like a serpent w ith color plu m es, into the mirrors of the stealer of tracks, the lake that, w ith Quad riheaven w ound ed , is covered w ith bu bbles, bau bles 1 that hid e MAA here uses the w ord chalchihuitles, an Indian w ord that m eans “stone crystal ad ornm ents and , by extension, all those trinkets that w om en w ear on cord s over their breasts.” 1

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the rem nants of his ephem eral arts. Thus and only thus cou ld Qu ad riheaven be w ou nd ed at m id d ay, w ith the reflection in the w ater of an arrow shot tow ard the su n. Thus and only thus cou ld Qu ad riheaven be w ou nd ed , vu lnerable to the qu etzal that crosses the sapphire tow ard the light. Thus and only thus cou ld Qu ad riheaven be w ou nd ed , vu lnerable to the green that crosses the blue tow ard the yellow . Thus and only thus cou ld Qu ad riheaven be w ou nd ed , at mid d ay, in tim e w ith the kettled ru m s, in the gam e-d ance-of-the-arrow s, the d ance of the chim eras. "H ere’s my arrow , m y yellow arrow , the reflection of my arrow of light that passes throu gh the w ater tow ard the captive Magician of Painting. I w ou nd him , w ithou t killing him , only his d raw ing, his color I w ou nd!"

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"H ere’s my arrow , m y w hite arrow , the reflection of my lu nar arrow that passes throu gh the w ater tow ard the captive Magician of Mu sic. I w ou nd him , w ithou t killing him , only his sou nd , his harm ony I w ou nd!" "H ere’s my arrow , m y black arrow , the reflection of my arrow of d ream that passes throu gh the w ater tow ard the captive Magician of Scu lptu re. I w ou nd him , w ithou t killing him , only his contou r, his form I w ou nd !" "H ere’s my arrow , m y red arrow , the reflection of my arrow of fire that passes throu gh the w ater tow ard the captive Magician of Poetry. I w ou nd him w ithou t killing him , only his song, his poem I w ou nd!" "And I, Eagle of Trees, Chieftain of H u nters, lau nch my second green arrow from these island s of springtim e verdu re, to the d om e of cloud s that now covers the lake, a d om e of clou d s constructed by the Bu ild ers of cities!..." "There it goes... and the u ntou ched Architectu re is born, a shelter for the arts w ou nd ed by the arrow s' reflection in the w ater, in the chase of Qu ad riheaven,

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id ol of transparent lava, w ho from year to year at the onset of spring w ill again be w ou nd ed , so that the arts, the nou rishm ent of the god s, m ay rem ain am ong men and fill the plazas w ith musicians, painters, scu lptors, poets, engravers, plu m ists, gou rd cu tters, acrobats, potters, carvers, gold sm iths, flying d ancers, for from them comes the springtim e daw n of this cou ntry forged in honey!"

Paris, Summer, 1963. Sinaia (Romania), W inter, 1964. V enice, N aples, M ilan, Rome, Genoa, 1964. Completed in Genoa on July 13, 1964.

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