Tepeyollotli, heart of the mountain
1
That one who was the image of rain
no longer leaves trails through the jungle,
the gold discs of his eyes
no longer blink brightly.
He isn’t to be seen
in the morning sun floating on a log
down the Sacred Monkey River.
His solar pelt is a rug.
The heart of the mountain no longer wears
black-and-white markings on its chest
nor does the volute, cloud of speech that names things
scroll from his molten jaws.
His mute cry
booms out
my extinction.
2
Sad jaguar of the mythologies
who on devouring the sun devoured himself,
who on turning into the devouring Earth
devoured his own shadow in the night sky.
Orphan god of the Underworld
who, on following in the tracks of man,
was tricked by his masks
and fell into his snares.
Poor jaguar of the resplendent,
in his skin he carried death.
3
Before words
when, in the bowels of the night,
there was neither fowl
nor tree
nor fish
nor river
nor sun
in the night sky,
the jaguar
meowed.
4
The jaguar that went away
is on its way,
the jaguar that came back
still hasn’t come
the jaguar of we two
within you
watches me from outside
5
Our bodies
two solar jaguars
faced off in the night
will end clawed up
in the total dawn
Copyright © 2023, George McWhirter, translated from the Spanish written by Homero Aridjis, Self-Portrait in the Zone of Silence, New Directions Publishing
The Jaguar
the Spanish written by Homero Aridjis
