NO ACABARÁN MIS FLORES, MY FLOWERS WILL NOT DIE

No acabarán mis flores

No acabarán mis flores,
no cesarán mis cantos.
Yo cantor los elevo,
se reparten, se esparcen.
Aun cuando las flores
se marchitan y amarillecen,
serán llevadas allá,
al interior de la casa
del ave de plumas de oro.

My flowers will not die

My flowers will not die,

my songs will not cease.

My singing lifts them,

spreading out, dispersing.

Even when the flowers

wither and yellow,

they will be brought there,

into the house

of the golden feathered bird.

-Nezahualcóyotl