A Spring Song of the Mexicans, a Plain Song

My heart grieved, I, the singer, was afflicted, that these are the only flowers, the only songs which I can procure here on earth; see how they speak of sickness and of death, how all go there to their homes, alas.

Sometimes thou hast toiled and acquired skill, thou takest refuge in thy fame and renown on earth; but see how vain they speak, alas.

As many as live on earth, truly they go to God when they descend to the place where are their homes, alas.

Alas, we miserable ones, may it happen when we die that we may see our friends, that we may be with them in grandeur and strength.

Although He is the Creator, do not hope that the Giver of Life has sent you and has established you.

Be ye grieved, ye of Tezcuco and Atecpan, that ye are intoxicated with gems and precious stones; come forth to the light, come and believe.