Yesteryear Fiction

Hymn to Ixcoçauhqui


1. In the Hall of Flames let me not put to shame my ancestors; descending there, let me not put you to shame.

2. I fasten a rope to the sacred tree, I twist it in eight folds, that by it I, a magician, may descend to the magical house.

3. Begin your song in the Hall of Flames; begin your song in the Hall of Flames; why does the magician not come forth? Why does he not rise up?

4. Let his subjects assist in the Hall of Flames; he appears, he appears, let his subjects assist.

5. Let the servants never cease the song in the Hall of Flames; let them rejoice greatly, let them dance wonderfully.

6. Call ye for the woman with abundant hair, whose care is the mist and the rain, call ye for her.


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