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Huitzilopochtli in Front of a Mirror

                                                                              Ámbar Past



“What will happen to the sun?”

–The Florentine Codex, Book III


“Only when the violin forgives

all the wounds by blood and fire

the heart can start singing.”



I come from the Universe

I am always traveling, creating, displaying my brilliant oeuvre


Crowds fall at my feet in ecstasy

As if I were Michael Jackson


They give me their daughters, sons

They sacrifice everything for my greatness


I lack nothing

I stroll along the most splendid avenues of creation


Generals and queens kneel down as I walk by

When I play my violin, all the winds keep quiet


I am the saliva in the mouths of rich and poor

I am the semen of all beings


I confess:

I am a serial killer

An executioner, a butcher

Crusade and invasion

My name is War

I confess:

I don’t care to get along with you

Nor with anyone

I don’t seek for friends

I just want death

And pain

Slaughters and massacres

Pain and suffering

Orchards of skeletons

Sowed in my name


In the solitary putrefaction of the mirror

My hand slays my hand


Light is born from the blood


In death I will learn

                                                To sing

                                                The best that I can

                                I will start


                                To crawl

                                In the sands of time.

                I will be earth





                I will be love. I will know every song.

Yes, I will sing about love when I turn into an old man

                                                On the verge of being born



––––Translations by Matías Chiappe Ippolito

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