Tlāhuiya miccahua itech tlachinolli, Amo in tlachinolli ixtli ipan hueyi teōtl. In yōllōtl momachtli, in tlahtolli tlatzitzīni, Quinhuica in angelme ic campa īhuān īlhuicac. Amo in tlayōlli quimoneki īma, Zan in tlatzīntli quimopanōz quimelāhua. Yēhua quimottilia in icniuh, quixpālia in hueyi, In tlayōlli huetziz, in tlahtzīntli patlaniz!
The light shines through the broken edge, Not through proud eyes on glory’s ledge. The humbled soul, the silent cry, Draws angels down from higher sky. It’s not the strong that move His hand, But those who fall and choose to stand. He lifts the low, He shames the high, The proud will fall, the meek will fly.
If the body starves, we weaken then eventually die. If the soul starves, we grow hollow and cold. But if the spirit starves, we cannot hear His voice as we do not feed our Spiritual life. Feed the spirit, and the soul begins to sing again. Feed the soul, and the body learns peace. All three move together, as one flame, dust and breath, heart and light, the full design of a living creation.