I pity my compatriots abroad,
Whose shallow minds hold less water
Than these ponds.
It is in their beliefs, Iberia to be
La perola baroca del mundo.
How wrong we are, how erroneous
Was my view of the globe.
In truth, there lies a particle, smaller
Than an Agathe stone,
embedded in their eyes.
Said rock, would blind them, making
The smallest village the universe's center.
My uncouth, unpolished sentiment
Of a limited world was but my sin.
I onced believed;
Spain stood upon shoulders of giants
Gazing above any other
country, empire, nation far below
Than sight could lower itself.
What triumphant view!
The immortal lion of the regent kingdom.
Europe is believed
To be the oyster of Hispanian pearl.
Overlooking sans much care,
Riches of the world, treasure vast enough
For all to held and sustain.
Ancient wisdom unmoved,
untouched by any illicit doctrine.
Truth in its purest form.
My compassion is thine,
Children unborn, generations to come
Ye shall be taught not the past.
But borrowed glories,
Made heroes, cursed teachings;
Hatred, ignorance, prejudice
'Tis thine inheritance.
Alas there's hope, I hold unto it
Everyday, henceforth I pray for
Future days, indeed reveal
Through efforts and study,
To be revealed in due time,
Wisdom passed through singing
Parchments and scrolls which aided
Thine ancestors to open heavenly vaults,
And with bare eyes decipher it's secrets.
My brethren, my family.
Ye humble me to sit on the earth,
To respect it and tended as if
The very land was to embrace me.
But not ye my Maya brethren,
We are not above nature but part of it,
I am no more Spaniard than man.
Made from dust, unbeknownst
To many asleep in Europe.
An old world, sets afar where many, unsure
Of my sentiments will label me traitor...
Another heretic of good moral
Of the sacred church and crown...
But I have written my fate, I have set my will
I discarded the sword for obsidian blade,
The metal plates for a naked painted body.
The arquebus and cannon for spears.
A hand that will hold the poisoned darts
For I'm reborn from the foreign clay
And by the hands of (Ixmal)
I join thine ranks as warrior.
I learnt more of thine people,
Than I knew of ancient Greece.
I dare say thine structures
Are older than Pericles, and
Thine edifications to be more
Precise than the mathematical
Triangles of Pythagoras.
Thine studies revoked old
Ptolemaic thought of a sun
Orbiting the earth.
What magnificence is this
Our world, vast and unexplored,
Impossible for man to be the measure
Of it's infinite beauty and wonder.
It is our duty, we brothers
To encourage any unsure man rebel and join
Our tribe, together
build a nation on this
sacred place,
To prove the might of Kukulkán.
Shall not be trifled sans war!
Submitted: January 31, 2025
© Copyright 2025 anonymous 1520. All rights reserved.
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