Falling Flowers of the Funeral Tree

The ninth cuicatl in Songs of the Lords of Anahuac, my English translation of the codex Romances de los señores de la Nueva España.

Let us drink tejate,¹
let us eat the flowers
of the funeral tree.²
Let us delight in them —
Your bloom has burst open!

Funeral tree flowers
make my heart drunk.
They make my heart drunk.
Shrouded with them,
let me leave when it is time,
let my heart go with them —
May those flowers never wither!

May it be that I go to such a place
and crown myself with flowers!
May it be that I go to such a place
and crown myself with flowers!

Let me have a garland!
Let it go twisting away
to where blooms await!
May those flowers never wither!

They head off marching
at the command of our god —
both Cohuatecatl
and Iztaccoyotl.³

He makes them fall,
those blissful blooms:
they reach Our Lord the Sun,
they reach the Mother of the Gods.⁴
How do they fly there?
How does our god call them?