On the ball-ground the quetzalcoxcoxtli sings;
The Maize-god answers him.
Beautifully sings our friend the quetzal,
In the twilight of the red maize god.
My song shall be heard by the lord of the twilight,
The god with the thigh-skin face-painting.
I came to the place where the roads meet,
I, the Maize-god.
Where shall I now go?
Which way shall I take?