poem of the Maya of Yucata

n; and I do not remember

ever in my life hearing anything that revealed more clearly or resonantly to what depths the human will descends to raise its foreknowledge of night. And I seemed to see again in the Infinite and as if in a dream the raw matter from which God called forth Life. This scream of the Priest seemed m

Cost

eant to sustain the pat
h of the cane in the ai

r. Screaming this wa

y, the Priest moved and he drew with his whole body in the air and with his feet on the ground the shape of the same until he had closed the figure at the Southern end. The dance was almost over. The two children who had remained to the left of the circle all this time asked w

heth

er they could go, and t
he Priest gave them a s

ign with his cane a

s if to scatter and disappear. But neither of the two had taken Peyote. They made a vague gesture that resembled a dance movement, then gave up and disappeared as if to go home. As I

said at the beginning of this account, all

this did not satis
fy me. I wanted to find
out more about
Peyote. I walked

over to the Pries

t to question him. "Our last Festival," he told me, "could no
t take place. We are discouraged. Nowadays we do not take Ciguri for the Rites but as a vice. Soon o
At the end of the semester you will receive your grade by mail.

ur whole Race will be sick. Time has grown too old for

Man. It can no longer sustain us. What are we to do, what is to become of us? Already our people are turning away from God. As a priest, I cannot help feeling it. You see me in despair." I