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I Am The Sun And The Air



Nezahualcóyotl



I am the son and the heir How Soon Is Now Juan Carlos Cano


“I love the song of the mockingbird,

Bird of four hundred voices,

I love the color of jade

And the intoxicating scent of flowers,

But more than all I love my brother, man.”


― Nezahualcóyotl


Kinich Ahau


HOW SOON IS NOW?


I am the son and the heir

Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar

I am the son and heir

Of nothing in particular


Oh, shut your mouth, how can you say

I go about things the wrong way?

I am human and I need to be loved

Just like everybody else does


I am the son and the heir

Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar

I am the son and heir

Of nothing in particular


Oh, shut your mouth, how can you say

I go about things the wrong way?

I am human and I need to be loved

Just like everybody else does


There's a club if you'd like to go

You could meet somebody who really loves you

So you go and you stand on your own

And you leave on your own

And you go home and you cry and you want to die


When you say it's going to happen now

Well, when exactly do you mean?

See, I've already waited too long

And all my hope is gone


You shut your mouth, how can you say

I go about things the wrong way?

I am human and I need to be loved

Just like everybody else does


Written by: Steven Patrick Morrissey


Kinich Ahau


We will pass away. I, Nezahualcoyotl, say, enjoy!

Do we really live on earth? Ohuaya, ohuaya.


Not forever on earth, only a brief time here!

Even jades fracture; even gold ruptures, even quetzal plumes tear:

Not forever on earth: only a brief time here! Ohuaya, ohuaya.


Nezahualcóyotl



All the earth is a grave and nothing escapes it,

nothing is so perfect that it does not descend to its tomb.

Rivers, rivulets, fountains and waters flow,

but never return to their joyful beginnings;

anxiously they hasten on the vast realms of the rain god.

As they widen their banks,

they also fashion the sad urn of their burial.



Filled are the bowels of the earth with pestilential dust once flesh and bone, once animate bodies of man who sat upon thrones, decided cases, presided in council, commanded armies, conquered provinces, possessed treasure, destroyed temples, exulted in their pride, majesty, fortune, praise and power. Vanished are these glories, just as the fearful smoke vanishes that belches forth from the infernal fires of Popocatepetl. Nothing recalls them but the written page.


Nezahualcóyotl



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