Put sleep as black as beauty in the secret of my belly.
Put star-oil over me.
Call me a man.
Even as she read, she could hear the people outside singing it, as the reed-flutes unthreaded the melody time after time. This strange dumb people of Mexico was opening its voice at last. It was as if a stone had been rolled off them all, and she heard their voice for the first time, deep, wild, with a certain exultance and menace.
“The naked one climbed in.
Quetzalcoatl has come!”
She could hear the curious defiance and exultance in the men’s voices. Then a woman’s voice, clear almost as a star itself, went up the road at the verse:
“Blue daylight sinks in my hair.
The star comes out between the two
Wonders....”