The Indians were born 

where Tihuantisuyo flourished. 

They came to the puna 

with dances, with hymns.

The quenas whistled; 

two thousand live fires sizzled. 

Golden Coyas

and blessed Amautas 

offered their songs.

Blinded by suns, 

you descended, 

flying in your sleep, 

to discover the widowed air 

of the llama, of the Indian.

And when maize fields existed:

the wheat is rising. 

In place of the vicuna, 

young bulls run.

Return to your Pachacamac-

you've come in vain, 

crazy Indian, 

Indian who is born 

a lost bird!

Puna - acidic tableland 

qucnas – Quechua flute

Goldcn Coyas - Indian Queen

Arnatuas - ceremonial poet and storyteller
 
 
 

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Page last edited February 14, 2000
by: PhoneBoy