by Feliciano Sánchez Chan
(translated from spanish to english by Jonathan Harrington)
First Dream (The Beginning)
I am the Sacred Ceiba Tree (the Kapok)
from which your children will dangle like fruit,
Mother,
if you claim them
before their seeds ripen.
I am the vertebra that unites
the thirteen canopies of heaven
and the nine levels of the underworld
where the spirits travel.
I am the breasts of your daughter,
Mother,
where the old man nurses,
his long gray hair spilling over
the four directions of the universe,
as he walks nude
through the heavens
clothed
by your tears.
You entrust to me
the lives of your children,
Mother,
on my trunk you see
their footprints.
I am the Ceiba,
I am the Sacred One.
Yáax Wayak’ (U káajbal)Teen le kili’ich X-ya’ache’ tu’ux ku ch’uytal a paalal wa ka bisiko’ob ta wiknal ma’ayli’ k’anak u yi’ijo’obo’o in Na’.Teen a baakel nupik óoxlajun u yáalal ka’an yéetel bolon u yáalal metnal tu’ux ku xíimbal pixano’ob. Teen u yiim a x-lóo’bayan aal Ti’ teen a k’ubeetmaj
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Sueño Primero (El origen)Soy la Ceiba Sagrada donde penden tus hijos Madre, si los reclamas a ti antes que sus granos sazonen.Soy la vértebra que une las trece capas del cielo y los nueve niveles del inframundo donde transitan los espíritus. Soy los senos de tu hija, A mí encomendaste |
Second Dream (The Word)
I am the conch
my voice born of the sea
that speaks through your children,
Mother.
My singing travels throughout the world
opening new trails.
I have penetrated the labyrinths of caves
so that the old gods
write on my lips
the word that the dove
spills out over the world
on moonlit mornings.
I am the first voice that gathers together the echoes
planted yesterday along antique roads.
I am the ancient word that is only spoken
after midnight
if your son does not return from the jungle.
I am the conch of long past echoes
that you have recorded with your voice,
Mother,
I am the conch.
Ka’a Wayak’ (T’aan)Teen le jub siijil u t’aan ich k’áa’náab kin t’aan tu yóo’lal a paalalo’ in Na’.In k’aaye’ ku jolch’aktik u beel wíiniko’ob yóok’ol kaab. Ts’o’ok in xíimbaltik u satunsat bejilo’ob áaktun tia’al ka ts’íibta’ak tin chi’ tumeen in úuchben Yumtsilo’ob, u nikte’il le t’aan ku jayik sakpakal yóok’ol kaab tu ja’atskab k’iinilo’ob Ujo’. Teen le yáax t’aan Teen le jub úuchben u éets’nak’
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Sueño Segundo (La Palabra)Soy el caracol con voz nacida del mar que habla por tus hijos Madre.Mi canto recorre el mundo trazando caminos. He penetrado en el laberinto de las grutas para que los dioses antiguos escriban en mis labios la palabra que la torcaza derrama en el mundo en mañanas de lunas. Soy la voz primera que recoge los ecos que ayer sembraste en viejos caminos. Soy la palabra antigua que sólo se dice pasada la media noche si tu hijo no retorna del monte. Soy el caracol de ecos antiguos |
Third Dream (Life)
I have come from the underworld, Xibalba,
to visit
your shrine, Mother.
I am the anointed gust of wind
that springs from your womb
which lives and dies here
day by day
over the face of the earth.
You gave me, Mother,
the icon of a deer of royal lineage.
That is why I fly over your face
so I will not wound you
with my footsteps.
For an eye you gave me
a precious gem.
I am born of your womb of corn
from which you feed
my children.
The gust with which you overwhelm
my nostrils
flew away like a
nocturnal hummingbird.
In this way I am born and I die
every day.
I find myself linked
to your eternal shadow.
I am from corn, your child of corn,
corn is my flesh, corn you are Mother.
Yóoxp’éel Wayak’ (Kuxtal)Taaliken tak Xibalba tia’al in xíimbat a Ka’anche’il in Na’, teen u yiik’al le kuxtal yaan ta jobnelo’, le ku síijil yéetel ku kíimil sáansamal yóok’ol kaabo’.Juntúul Siipil Kéej ta ts’áajten in jo’olintej leti’ beetik xik’nal kin beetik ta wóok’ol tia’al ma’ in xek’ik a wich yéetel in pe’echak’. Jump’éel Ya’ax Tun ta ts’áaj tin wich. Sijnalen ta j-ixi’im jobnel |
Sueño Tercero (La vida)He venido desde Xibalbá a visitar tu santuario Madre, soy el soplo ungido en tu vientre, aquel que nace y muere día con día sobre la faz de la tierra. Un venado de estirpe real me diste por signo, por eso vuelo sobre tu rostro para no herirte con mis pisadas. Por ojo me diste una piedra preciosa.Soy nacido de tu vientre maíz con el que alimentas a mis hijos. El soplo con que inundaste mi nariz erigió su vuelo de Colibrí Nocturno. Así nazco y muero todos los días, pues me hallo ligado a tu eterna sombra. Soy de maíz, tu hijo maíz, maíz es mi carne, maíz eres Madre.
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Fourth Dream (The Light)
I am the thunder that has come
with its light
of eternal profundities
to illuminate the Sak Be, the White Road
where your children travel, Mother.
I am the bolt that invented light
to announce to mankind
the fall
of your tears of corn,
the Sacred Grain that sustains my brothers and sisters.
Lord Fire
is my older brother.
Today I have come
with my four sisters:
the Rain from the East,
the Rain from the West,
the Rain from the North,
the Rain from the South.
I am, Mother,
the most willing of your sons,
I walk the world
without leaving footprints
only lives reflect my presence
from day to day
only my memories remain
and the hope
for what still needs to be done.
I am the Light, I am the Light,
I am the Light.
Kamp’éel Wayak’ (Sáasil)Teen le kíilbal taalen yéetel u piktun taamil in sáasil tia’al in jop u sak bejil tu’ux ku xíimbal a paalalo’ in Na’.Teen le kíilbal ta sutaj sáasilil tia’al in k’a’ayt ti’ wíinik u yéembal u ixi’im ja’il a wicho’, u sujuy i’ijil a tséentik in láak’o’ob. In Noj Suku’un Teen in Na’,
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Sueño Cuarto (La Luz)Soy el trueno que ha venido con su luz de eternas profundidades para alumbrar el Camino Blanco por donde transitan tus hijos, Madre.Soy el relámpago que hiciste luz para anunciar a los hombres el descenso de tus lágrimas-maíz, Grano Sagrado con que sustentas a mis hermanos. El Señor Fuego |
Fifth Dream (The Spirit)
I have flown
so many times
I am a reflection of your own flight,
Mother.
You taught me
to breathe life
into everything that lives
in this world.
I am the spirit of your son
that nurses
from the Mother Ceiba.
Beyond the clouds
I have traced a rainbow.
You have told me,
Mother,
that accompanied by the hummingbird
I can lead to you
those who have lost their lives.
You intentionally made me ageless
so that I might be reborn day by day
with the Father Sun,
I am your spirit,
I am the spirit that gives off light
I am your gleaming spirit
Mother.
Jo’op’éel Wayak’ (Pixan)Ts’o’ok in xik’nal piktun u téenel ch’uyukbalen ta xik’nal xan in Na’. Teech ta ka’ansen in ts’áa u kuxtal tuláakal ba’ax kuxa’an wey yóok’ol kaabe’.Teen u pixan a waal ch’uyukbal tu k’ab ki’ichpan X-ya’axche’. To tu paach le múuyalo’ Ts’o’ok in bonik jump’éel chéeli’. Teche’ ta wa’alajtene’ in Na’ A wóolili’ ma’ ta ts’áaj in ja’abile’e |
Sueño Quinto (El espíritu)He volado tantas veces prendido en tu propio vuelo, Madre. Tú me enseñaste a soplarle vida a todo lo vivo en este mundo.Soy el espíritu de tu hijo que amamanta en la Madre Ceiba. Más allá de las nubes Tú me has dicho, A propósito no me diste edad |
Sixth Dream (The Otherness)
I am the hummingbird
that sketches a rainbow in the sky
with the splendor of its flight.
I am your image embroidered
on the Rain,
child of your mirror
seven times transparent
where you do not find me
when you want to
and you see me
when you don’t want to find me.
I am the Sun of autumn
that hurts the eyes
of the white cloud—your daughter—
so that she will cry rain.
Drink, Mother, from my sap,
I will eat your precious grain
so that in me
your son will be engendered.
You will know tomorrow
that the road I choose
is only one step
so that the dream that I create
will bring us
to the place of origin
where you will be my flesh
and I will sustain you.
Wakp’éel Wayak’ (U yaanal)Teen le Ts’unu’un bonik chéelo’ob te’ej ka’an yéetel u léembal u xik’nalo’.Teen a woochel chuya’an te’ej Cháako’, u yaal a néenil uktéen sáask’ale’en tu’ux ma’atan a wiliken wa a k’áat a wilen, tu’ux ka wiliken wa ma’ a k’áat a wileni’. Teen u Yum K’iinil yáaxk’in Uk’ in k’aab in Na’ |
Sueño Sexto (La otredad)Soy el colibrí que traza arco iris en el cielo con el resplandor de su vuelo.Soy tu imagen bordado en la Lluvia, hijo de tu espejo siete veces transparente donde no me hallas cuando quieres mirarme, y me miras cuando no quieres hallarme. Soy el Sol de otoño Bebe Madre de mi sabia, |
Seventh Dream (The Other Dead)
There are already many, Mother,
already many.
They hang from my branches
at the point of spilling
beneath my shadows
like filth.
You never told me
that the dreams you cultivated
over so much limestone
would become today the suffering
over which I cry.
I am the Sacred Ceiba,
Mother.
The other hands
plant in my entrails
a woman of the night,
a bad woman
who carries off men who cannot sleep.
In this way I know your sons
and those that suckle
abundant milk
from the breasts of your daughters,
they are not my dead,
I do not take them
Aj Puch, ni Ixtab,
other dead that I do not know
sang in my ears.
They are not my death, Mother,
They are not my death.
Ukp’éel Wayak’ (Yaanal kíimilo’ob)Ts’o’ok u máan p’iis in Na, Ts’o’ok u máan p’iis. Ch’úuyench’uuyo’ob tin k’ab, ta’aytak u lúubsikeno’ob, yéetel jayakbalo’ob tin wáanal bey ba’al ku pe’ekekaabe’.Teche’ mix juntéen ta wa’alajten wa le wayak’o’ob ta pak’aj tu yóok’ol le seen cháaltuno’ bíin súutko’ob muk’yajil tia’al ok’ol tin wóok’ol. Teen X-ya’axche’, in Na’. Tene’ in k’aj óol a paalal in Na’ |
Sueño Séptimo (Las otras muertes)Ya son tantas Madre, ya son tantas. De mis ramas cuelgan a punto de derribarme, bajo mi sombra están como inmundicias.Tú nunca me dijiste que los sueños que cultivaste sobre tanta piedra caliza serían hoy las penas que sobre mí lloran. Soy la Ceiba Sagrada, Aun así conozco a tus hijos |
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Feliciano Sánchez Chan was born in the village of Xaya, Tekax, Yucatan, Mexico, in 1960. His work Retazos de Vida (Slices of life) won the Itzamna Prize for literature in the Mayan language. “Seven Dreams” are from his book Ukp’eel wayak / Siete Sueños. He works as a promoter of culture in the Department of Popular Culture of the state of Yucatan.
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Jonathan Harrington has published translations from Mayan and Spanish in World Literature Today, Visions International, The Dirty Goat, and other magazines. He is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and has published nine books in English, including novels, poetry, short stories, and essays. His translations of two poems by Maya poet Briceida Cuevas Cob appeared in the January 2010 issue of World Literature Today. Jonathan lives on the Hacienda San Antonio Xpakay in Yucatan, Mexico.
photo by Dan Griffin