I went there where the roses bloom, where the roses talk.
I didn’t hear a thing. Not anything. Silence.
I went there, where the Roses sing,
Where the gods appear from the blue stairway in the sky.
But I didn’t hear anything. Not a thing.
Who knows why the hills decided to stand there in Wirikuta.
Who knows why the hills speak, there in Wirikuta.
- Mexican poetry-Omnibus- Translated from Huichol and adapted to Spanish by Gabriel Zaid.