OTHERS have divers paints and enamels,
Lavish and bright on breast and wing feathers:
You, Guatemalan, have sunken all colours
Into glory of greenness!

There may be palms as greenly resplendent,
Palms by the Fountain of Youth in Anahuac
Such greens there may be on sea-sunken bronzes
The Gates of Callao!

There may be words in rituals spoken
To Quetzalcoatl who makes verdure through rain-flow
Words like the gash made by knives of obsidian
To tell of such greenness!