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The Songs of Dzitbalché
Ancient Mayan Poetry
by Ah Bam
Translated by John Curl
In this collection, known as Songs of Dzitbalché, the only known ancient Maya lyric poetry, the poet speaks of personal
feelings and ideas, of love, philosophy, ancient rituals and spiritual values.
These selections of The Songs of Dzitbalché
offer a glimpse into
ANCIENT AMERICAN POETS
Inca, Maya & Aztec Poetry
translations and biographies of the poets
by John Curl
published by
Bilingual Press (Arizona State University)
Buy this book
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CONTENTS
I Will Kiss Your Mouth
To Kiss Your Lips Beside The Fence Rails
Let Us Go To The Receiving Of The Flower
Flower Song
The Mourning Song Of The Poor Motherless Orphan
The Song Of The Minstrel
INTRODUCTION
BIBLIOGRAPHY
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I WILL KISS YOUR MOUTH
I will kiss your mouth
between the plants of the milpa.
Shimmering beauty,
you have to hurry.
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BIN IN TZ'UUTZ' A CHI
Bin in tz'uutz' a chi
Tut yam x cohl
X ciichpam zac
Y an y an a u ahal
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TO KISS YOUR LIPS
BESIDE THE FENCE RAILS
Put on your beautiful clothes;
the day of happiness has arrived;
comb the tangles from your hair;
put on your most attractive clothes
and your splendid leather;
hang great pendants in the lobes of
your ears; put on
a good belt; string garlands
around your shapely throat;
put shining coils
on your plump upper arms.
Glorious you will be seen,
for none is more beautiful here
in this town, the seat of Dzitbalché.
I love you, Beautiful Lady.
I want you to be seen; in
truth you are very alluring,
I compare you to the smoking star
because they desire you up to the moon
and in the flowers of the fields.
Pure and white are your clothes, maiden.
Go give happiness with your laugh,
put goodness in your heart, because today
is the moment of happiness; all people
put their goodness in you.
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LET US GO
TO THE RECEIVING OF THE FLOWER
Let us sing
flowing with joy
because we are going to
the Receiving of the Flower.
All the maidens
wear a smile on their pure faces;
their hearts
jump in their breasts.
What is the cause?
Because they know
that they will give
their virginity to those they love.
Let the Flower sing!
Accompanying you will be the Nacom
and the Great Lord Ah Kulel
present on the platform.
Ah Kulel sings:
"Let us go, let us go
lay down our wills before the Virgin
the Beautiful Virgin and Lady
the Flower of the Maidens
on the high platform,
the Lady Suhay Kaak,
the Pretty X Kanleox,
the Lovely X Zoot
and the Beautiful Lady Virgin X Tootmuch.
They are those who give goodness
to life here in this Region,
on the Plains and in the district
here in the Mountains."
Let us go, let us go,
let us go, youths;
we will give perfect rejoicing
here in Dzitill Piich,
Dzitbalché.
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FLOWER SONG
The most alluring moon
has risen over the forest;
it is going to burn
suspended in the center
of the sky to lighten
all the earth, all the woods,
shining its light on all.
Sweetly comes the air and the perfume.
Happiness permeates all good men.
We have arrived inside the woods
where no one will see what we have
come here to do.
We have brought plumeria flowers,
chucum blossoms, dog jasmines;
we have the copal,
the low cane vine,
the land tortoise shell,
new quartz, chalk and cotton thread;
the new chocolate cup,
the large fine flint,
the new weight,
the new needle work,
gifts of turkeys, new leather,
all new, even our hair bands,
they touch us with nectar
of the roaring conch shell
of the ancients.
Already, already
we are in the heart of the woods,
at the edge of the pool in the stone
to await the rising
of the lovely smoking star
over the forest.
Take off your clothes,
let down your hair,
become as you were
when you arrived here on earth,
virgins, maidens.
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THE MOURNING SONG
OF THE POOR MOTHERLESS ORPHAN
DANCE TO DRUMBEATS
I was very small when my mother died,
when my father died.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Raised by the hands of friends,
I have no family here on earth.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Two days ago my friends died,
and left me insecure
vulnerable, alone. Ay ay!
That day I was alone
and put myself
in a stranger's hand.
Ay ay, my lord!
Evil, much evil passes here
on earth. Perhaps
I will never stop crying.
Without family,
alone, very lonely I walk,
crying day and night
only cries consume my eyes and soul.
Under evil so hard.
Ay ay, my Lord!
Take pity on me, put an end
to this suffering.
Give me death , my Beautiful Lord,
or give my soul transcendence!
Poor, poor
alone on earth
pleading insecure lonely
imploring door to door
asking every person I see to give me love.
I who have no home, no clothes,
no fire.
Ay my lord! Have pity on my!
Give my soul transcendence
to endure.
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THE SONG OF THE MINSTREL
This day there is a feast in the villages.
Dawn streams over the horizon,
south north east west,
light comes to the earth, darkness is gone.
Roaches, crickets, fleas and moths
hurry home.
Magpies, white doves, swallows,
partridges, mockingbirds, thrushes, quail,
red and white birds rush about,
all the forest birds begin their song because
morning dew brings happiness.
The Beautiful Star
shines over the woods,
smoking as it sinks and vanishes;
the moon too dies
over the forest green.
Happiness of fiesta day has arrived
in the villages;
a new sun brings light
to all who live together here.
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