We come only to sleep, we come only to dream,
It is not true, it is not true that we come to live on earth.
We come to be transformed into the spring grasses,
Our hearts come here to put on fresh green. They come here to open their petals.
Our body is a flower, it gives birth to flowers, and it withers.
Anonymous Nahuatl poem
Adapted from a Spanish version by J.M. Cohen
