It is still a great dream, even, it was a greater drama
Orphans of the Zocola squire had no father, no mama
Nonetheless, they dance with yesterdays tone
Which is creating a vibration into the ground
And into hot-humid Mexican city’s air and my bones
Most of their culture and all of their gold is gone.

The drumming sound; and the sound of the hish hish
Which is coming from dancers’ legs (yoyotis) gears
But who cares about their cry full appealing.
I just wonder if those hish, hish sounds are invisible tears
Or they are trying to get rid of white devils’ fears
Which could be a dream of the yesterday Aztec dancing
It has continued for the last two hours without resting.

Now and then an ancient dancing and a fundamental cry
At least for the time being for victimized Aztecs is the best thing
In which an enigmatic feeling for a fundamental try.
But soul and sense of people are two different things.
With yesterdays dream, today’s reality, how the Aztec will win
The heaven, earth and history all questionable things
But questioning powerful people is an offensive sin.
Dancing against century’s years old racism is better than nothing.