Texts

Kwak se siwat kiwetzi yek kinutza. Wan su te kineki, kunij yawi ka tayua, wan ne kan kuchi ajsi kinapalua wan kichiwa ma isiwaw.

When he fancied a woman he called to her. If she wasn’t interested, then he would come at night to where she was sleeping to hold her and make her his wife.

Pejkia ne shupan! Pejkia wetzi ne at! Muchi ne jaral yawi mulini wan ne tal yawia shushuknajkisa. Ne takwalmet yawita kipiat itakwal, yawit mutaliat tumawak wan te yawit kiseliat mayan. Yajika ne tushupan yaja techtakwaltia muchi tay tinemit ijpak ne tal, wan kichiwa ka tuweyka mutetzilnajkisa, tumawaya wan weya. Yajika, kaj kenka Tiut? ka yaja techtuktia ne at; kituktia ne shalnaj ejekat pal tikijiukwit; ne tunal pal techtawilua ne tal kan tiktaliat tujtukshi pal weyat ne kwajkwawit pal tikutunat wan iwan yaja tiketzat ne tukal kan tinemit; nusan ne kan nemit ne tukujkunew, kan te techmaka ne tunal, kan tesu tisekmikit. Yajika kaj weliskia kichiwa tay Tiut kichiwa tuwan?

Winter has begun! The rain has begun to fall! All the fields will sprout and the land will turn green. The animals will have their food, they will grow fat and will not go hungry. Therefore our winter feeds us all who are upon the earth, and makes our body grow full, healthy and strong. Therefore, who is like unto God? for he sends us rain; he sends us air to breathe; the sun to cast light on the earth on which we tread so that the trees will grow and we can cut wood with which to build our homes where we live; where our children also live, where we shelter from the sun, where we do not feel the cold. Therefore who else could do what God does for us?

The ant, when there are other animals about that can eat it, does not go out to look for food. It waits until nightfall to start going out to look for its food.

At the foot of a hill where the flowers grow, I saw a girl carrying water.

And with this my song ends here where we meet, don’t forget, dark one, I carry you in my heart.

Ini nutechan Witzapan. Tik ne nutechan ninestuk. Nin kan munutza ne Nawat ka nemia pal muelkawa.

This is my village, Witzapan. In my village I was born. Here is spoken Nawat, which has nearly been forgotten.

This is my village, Witzapan, I cannot forget it, and our stream the Apantepet where I used to go bathing.

And with this I take my leave to sing my song, to remember my village here on this occasion.