adapted from Language at risk of dying out – the last two speakers aren't talking
Nuumte Oote
The True Voice
Remains unspoken
Only two wizened men in Mexico
Still dream in Ayapaneco
Words, which once sang from a village of tongues,
Planted and harvested,
Now lie fallow.
Scholars, let them be.
Your dictionary and institutes
Will not bring back
A chorus of voices
Haggling at the market, sharing the news,
Hushed whispers of lovers.
A culture, a universe,
Dies inside these men.
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