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Only the tzinitzcan is in power, the tzinitzcan arouses me in my affliction, letting fall its songs like sad flowers. In canin nemiya icanon in nemitoconchia ye nican huehuetitlan a ayiahue, ye onnentlamacho, ye mocatlaocoyalo ay xopancaliteca, ohuaya, ohuaya. Wherever it wanders, wherever it lives, one awaits it here with the drum, in affliction, in distress, here in the house of spring.
The disdained and the slaves shall go forth with song; but in a little while their oppressors shall be seen in the fire, amid the howling of wolves. Zan tzinitzcan impetlatl ipan, ohuaya; on tzinitzcan iceliztoca oncan izan in ninentlamatia, in zan icnoxochicuicatica inocon ya temohua ya ohuaya, ohuaya.
I, the singer, polished my noble new song like a shining emerald, I arranged it like the voice of the tzinitzcan bird, I called to mind the essence of poetry, I set it in order like the chant of the zacuan bird, I mingled it with the beauty of the emerald, that I might make it appear like a rose bursting its bud, so that I might rejoice the Cause of All.
Zacuantlazoihuiticaya tzinitzcan tlauquechol ic nicyaimatia, nocuicatzin teocuitlatzitzilini nocuic nitoz; miahuatototl nocuica cahuantimania, nicehuaya xochitzetzelolpá ixpan in tloque nahuaque.
I skillfully arranged my song like the lovely feathers of the zacuan bird, the tzinitzcan and the quechol; I shall speak forth my song like the tinkling of golden bells; my song is that which the miaua bird pours forth around him; I lifted my voice and rained down flowers of speech before the face of the Cause of All.
Ma xiuhquechol xochi, zan in tzinitzcan malintoca zan miqui huaqui xochitl zan ic tonmoquimiloa can titlatoani ya ti Nezahualcoyotl. Let the green quechol birds, let the tzinitzcan twine flowers for us, only dying and withered flowers, that we may clothe thee with flowers, thou ruler, thou Nezahualcoyotl.
I array myself with the jewels of saddest flowers; in my hands are the weeping flowers of war; I lift my voice in sad songs; I offer a new and worthy song which is beautiful and melodious; I weave songs fresh as the dew of flowers; on my drum decked with precious stones and plumes I, the singer, keep time to my song, as I take it from those dwellers in the heavens, the zacuan bird, the beautiful tzinitzcan, the divine quechol, those melodious birds who give joy to the Cause of All.
Suppose that I ask the brilliant humming-bird, the emerald trembler; suppose that I ask the yellow butterfly; they will tell me, they know, where bloom the pretty, sweet flowers, whether I may gather them here in the laurel woods where dwell the tzinitzcan birds, or whether I may gather them in the flowery forests where the tlauquechol lives.
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