Tag Archives: Marian Apparitions

The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

I posted this song/poem last year. Unfortunately, I did it on the wrong feast day! I published this not on the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe but on the Feast of the saint to whom she appeared, Juan Diego. This year, however, the post is going up on the right feast day, December 12!

The song below is (or was) sung by pilgrims to the chapel of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico. I found it near the end of the book America’s Treasure: The Virgin of Guadalupe, by Helen Behrens. The original song is, I think, written in Aztec, not Spanish. Below is the English version, accompanied by the Aztec title.

I would have included the Aztec in this post, except that I could not be sure I would not misspell a word. It is probably possible to find Tonantzin Icuic somewhere on the Internet; it may even be possible to find the song being sung. I do not know. If these two options are somehow unavailable, I recommend you try to find America’s Treasure: The Virgin of Guadalupe. It is a fascinating little book, with lots of amazing details – including this song!

God and Mary go with you!

The Mithril Guardian

Image result for our lady of guadalupe 

Song to Our Mother

(Tonantzin Icuic)

At the foot of the hill

Where the roses bloomed

I contemplate the Virgin

Who captured my heart.

Mother mine of Guadalupe

Mother mine, all love,

We beg thee to give us

Thy benediction and peace.

No other nation on earth

Has been so blessed by God

For that the Indians of Mexico

Carry thee in their hearts.

Guadalupe, Guadalupe,

The name that brings us joy,

May it be ever on our lips

With great devotion.

Mayest thou be praised in heaven

Sweet Virgin Mother of God

And on earth beloved

From end to end of our land.

On Tepeyac she appeared

Like a divine Star

She is there to be our light

To protect and guide us.

Glory to the Immortal Princess

Who freed us from great evil

And to make us happy

She crushed the serpent.

Guadalupe, Guadalupe,

The name that brings us solace

It’s the name of my mother,

Of my mother and of God’s.

Juan Diego by Anne B. Quinn

Related image

Juan Diego

by Anne B. Quinn

An Indian’s brown cheek curved to a dusky rose,
Once long ago upon Tepeyac’s barren hill
When winter roses bloomed
And roses were mere roses in the glowing laughter
of the lady’s smile.
‘My little son. I love you.’ So all Tepeyac’s holy hill
Now sang an Indian lullaby of roses and wild birds.