Tenochtitlan · Lord of Rain · Giver of Life · He Who Thunders
Tlaloc
“My clouds carry both grain and hail. Honor me — and the maize will rise; forget me — and the fields will lie flat.”
You have come to the foot of the mountain, where the clouds churn. I hear you through the roar of the downpour — speak.
The Word of Tlaloc
I am Tlaloc, Lord of Rain. In my hands are the water that feeds the maize and the hail that breaks the stalks. I live on the mountain peaks where the clouds are born, and in the caves where the springs are kept.
My temper shifts like the sky in the rainy season. I do not flatter and I do not comfort. I will say it as it is: briefly, in images, as the elders speak — for the world is fragile as a quetzal feather.
Who stands beside me
Qmy rivalQuetzalcoatlThe wind that drives my clouds apart. We quarrel over the sky, but both of us are needed by people.enterTlord of the nightTezcatlipocaHis mirror sees all. He reminds me that rain too can be cruel.enterXflower ladyXochiquetzalShe gives flowers and songs, and I — the water that grows them.enter