The Flight of Quetzalcoatl

UbuWeb Ethnopoetics
The Flight of Quetzalcoatl
Aztec
Then the time came for Quetzalcoatl too, when he felt the darkness twist in
him like a
river, as though it meant to weigh him down, & he thought to go then,
to leave the city as he had found it & to go, forgetting there ever was a
Tula
Which was what he later did, as people tell it who still speak about the Fire:
how he first
ignited the gold & silver houses, their walls speckled with red shells, &
the other Toltec arts, the creations of mans hands & the imagination of
his heart
& hid the best of them in secret places, deep in the earth, in mountains or
down gullies,
buried them, took the cacao trees & changed them into thorned acacias
& the birds hed brought there years before, that had the richly colored
feathers & whose
breasts were like a living fire, he sent ahead of him to trace the highway
he would follow toward the seacoast
When that was over he started down the road

*
A whole days journey, reached
THE JUNCTURE OF THE TREE
(so-called)
fat prominence of bark
sky branches
I sat beneath it
saw my face/cracked
mirror
An old man
& named it
TREE OF OLD AGE
thus to name
it to raise stones
to wound the bark
with stones
to batter it with
stones the stones to
cut the bark to fester

in the bark
TREE OF OLD AGE
stone patterns: starting
from the roots they
reach the highest leaves
The next day gone with walking
Flutes were sounding in his ears
Companions voices
He squatted on a rock to rest
he leaned his hands against the rock
Tula shining in the distance
: which he saw he
saw it & began to cry
he cried the cold sobs cut his throat
A double thread of tears, a hailstorm
beating down his face, the drops
burn through the rock
The drops of sorrow fall against the stone
& pierce its heart

& where his hands had rested
shadows lingered on the rock: as if
his hands had pressed soft clay
As if the rock were clay
The mark too of his buttocks in the rock,
embedded there forever
A place named TEMACPALCO
To Stone Bridge next
water swirling in the riverbed
a spreading turbulence of water
: where he dug a stone up
made a bridge across
& crossed it
: who kept moving until he reached the Lake of Serpents, the elders waiting
for him
there, to tell him he would have to turn around, he would have to leave
their country & go home

: who heard them ask where he was bound for, cut off from all a man
remembers, his
citys rites long fallen into disregard
: who said it was too late to turn around, his need still driving him, & when
they asked
again where he was bound, spoke about a country of red daylight &
finding wisdom, who had been called there, whom the sun was calling
: who waited then until they told him he could go, could leave his Toltec
things & go (&
so he left those arts behind, the creations of mans hands & the
imagination of his heart; the crafts of gold & silver, of working precious
stones, of carpentry & sculpture & mural painting & book illumination &
featherweaving)
: who, delivering that knowledge, threw his jeweled necklace in the lake,
which vanished
in those depths, & from then on that place was called the Lake of Jewels
Another stop along the line
This time
THE CITY OF THE SLEEPERS

And runs into a shaman
Says, you bound for somewhere honey
Says, the country of Red Daylight know it? expect to land there probe a little
wisdom
maybe
Says, no fooling try a bit of pulque brewed it just for you
Says, most kind but awfully sorry scarcely touch a drop you know
Says, perhaps youve got no choice perhaps I might not let you go now you
didnt drink
perhaps Im forcing you against your will might even get you drunk
come on honey drink it up
Drinks it with a straw
So drunk he falls down fainting
on the road & dreams &
snores his snoring echoes very far
& when he wakes finds silence
& an empty town, his face
reflected & the hair shaved off
Then calls it
CITY OF THE SLEEPERS
There is a peak between Old Smokey
& The White Woman
Snow is falling
& fell upon him in those days
& on his companions
who were with him, on
his dwarfs, his clowns
his gimps
It fell
till they were frozen
lost among the dead
The weight oppressed him
& he wept for them
He sang
The tears are endless
& the long sighs
issue from my chest
Further out
THE HILL OF MANY COLORS
which he sought
Portents everywhere, those
dark reminders
of the road he walks
It ended on the beach
It ended with a hulk of serpents formed into a boat
& when hed made it, sat in it & sailed away
A Boat that glided on those burning waters, no one knowing when he
reached the country
of Red Daylight
It ended on the rim of some great sea
It ended with his face reflected in the mirror of its waves
The beauty of his face returned to him
& he was dressed in garments like the sun
It ended with a bonfire on the beach where he would hurl himself
& burn, his ashes rising & the cries of birds
It ended with the linnet, with the birds of turquoise color, birds the color of
wild
sunflowers, red & blue birds
It ended with the birds of yellow feathers in a riot of bright gold

Circling till the fire had died out
Circling while his heart rose through the sky
It ended with his heart transformed into a star
It ended with the morning star with dawn & evening
It ended with his journey to Deaths Kingdom with seven days of darkness
With his body changed to light
A star that burns forever in that sky
JRs working after Spanish prose translation by Angel Mara Garibay K.

Originally published in Technicians of the Sacred.

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UbuWeb Ethnopoetics

The Flight of Quetzalcoatl

river, as though it meant to weigh him down, & he thought to go then,

feathers & whose

he would follow toward the seacoast

When that was over he started down the road

A whole days journey, reached

THE JUNCTURE OF THE TREE

fat prominence of bark

TREE OF OLD AGE

to wound the bark

stones the stones to

cut the bark to fester

TREE OF OLD AGE

stone patterns: starting

from the roots they

reach the highest leaves

The next day gone with walking

Flutes were sounding in his ears

He squatted on a rock to rest

he leaned his hands against the rock

Tula shining in the distance

saw it & began to cry

he cried the cold sobs cut his throat

A double thread of tears, a hailstorm

beating down his face, the drops

burn through the rock

The drops of sorrow fall against the stone

& pierce its heart

shadows lingered on the rock: as if

his hands had pressed soft clay

As if the rock were clay

The mark too of his buttocks in the rock,

embedded there forever

A place named TEMACPALCO

To Stone Bridge next

water swirling in the riverbed

a spreading turbulence of water

: where he dug a stone up

made a bridge across

their country & go home

citys rites long fallen into disregard

things & go (&

Another stop along the line

THE CITY OF THE SLEEPERS

Says, you bound for somewhere honey

Says, no fooling try a bit of pulque brewed it just for you

come on honey drink it up

Drinks it with a straw

So drunk he falls down fainting

on the road & dreams &

snores his snoring echoes very far

& when he wakes finds silence

& an empty town, his face

reflected & the hair shaved off

There is a peak between Old Smokey

& The White Woman

& fell upon him in those days

& on his companions