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TRANSLATIONS
The jaguar is the sun and he is holding the world in his hand:
"... In Central and South America, the jaguar has long been a symbol of power and strength. The Chavín cult of the jaguar became accepted over most of what is today Peru by 900 BC. Concurrent with Chavin, the Olmec, the progenitor culture of Pre-Columbian Mesoamerica, developed a distinct "were-jaguar" motif of sculptures and figurines showing stylized jaguars or humans with jaguar characteristics. The Moche culture of Northern Peru used the jaguar as a symbol of power in many of their ceramics. In the later Maya civilization, the jaguar was believed to facilitate communication between the living and the dead and to protect the royal household. The Maya saw these powerful felines as their companions in the spiritual world, and kings were typically given a royal name incorporating the word jaguar. The Aztec civilization shared this image of the jaguar as the representative of the ruler and as a warrior. The Aztecs formed an elite warrior class known as the Jaguar Knights. In Aztec mythology, the jaguar was considered to be the totem animal of the powerful deity Tezcatlipoca ..." (Wikipedia) Tezcatlipoca is the 'smoking mirror' image of Quetzalcoatl. The 'smoky' part of the world is the 'p.m.' phase - i.e. the shady sector in the picture above. Quetzalcoatl should be the 'rainbowy' part of the world, the 'a.m.' part - i.e. the sector coloured yellow and red. Twice yellow and twice red = 4. Below the circular 'world' are hanging what might be 'rays' (signified by feathers). There are 7 white and 7 yellow such. Half are 'belonging' to the moon and half to the sun. The feathers are divided 'horizontally' into 3 parts, i.e. we get 3 * 14 = 42 parts. The 'jaguar' has 6 'limbs', counting also the tail and the head. The 'rainbowy' part is the time when the shadows are broken and the roof of the sky is lifted up to let in the light. At that time we also find 'der Schicksalskammer':
'... Als solch ein Ort (resp. ein Gemach) im Osten des apsū [water below the earth] und im Osten der Erde an der Grenze zwischen dem sichtbaren und unsichtbaren Reiche hat der Duazag eine ganz besondere Bedeutung im Glauben der Babylonier. Er ist ... 'der Ort der Geschicke', der ki nam-tar-tar-ini = ašar šimātum. Ein Solcher konnte nur im Osten liegen. Denn die Sonne geht im Osten auf. Die Ostsonne ist Marduk. Darum bringt auch Marduk die Geschicke aus der Behausung seines Vaters Ía, dem Urwasser, hervor ...' '... Duazag, der Ort der Geschicke im Ubšugina [Versammlungsraum], das (dem?) Gemach der Geschicke, in dem im Zakmuku [= F(e)ast for Marduk at the beginning of the year to determine (make fast) the future (of the year/halfyear?) for which the gods went to Marduk's tempel Ĭsagila in Babylon: '... zu dem sich die übrigen Götter und vor Allem Barsip(pa)'s Hauptgott Nabū in feierlichem Zuge zu Schiff ... begaben ...'] zu Jahresanfang am 8ten (und?) am 11ten Tage der (Gott-)König .... sich niederlässt und die Götter über Himmel und Erde .... das Schicksal der Zukunft .... bestimmen ....' '... Ganz ähnlich is der Name 'Gott von Duazag' des Gottes Nabū ... zu erklären. Er bezeichnet ihn als den Gott des Wachtstums, welches als aus dem Osten stammend betrachtet wird, weil die Sonne, die das Wachstum bringt, im Osten aufgeht. Dass aber Nabū als Ost-Gott aufgefasst wurde, hängt damit zusammen, dass sein Stern, der Mercur, nur im Osten oder Westen sichtbar ist ...' In South America the connection between rainbow and lottery is expressed in several myths, e.g.: "M172. Arawak. 'How birds acquired their colored plumage' Men and birds joined forces to destroy the huge watersnake, which dragged all living creatures down to his lair. But the attackers took fright and cried off, one after the other, offering as their excuse that they could only fight on dry land. Finally, the duckler (K.G.: a diver) was brave enough to dive into the water; he inflicted a fatal wound on the monster which was at the bottom, coiled round the roots of an enormous tree. Uttering terrible cries, the men succeeded in bringing the snake out of the water, where they killed it and removed its skin. The duckler claimed the skin as the price of its victory. The Indian chiefs said ironically, 'By all means! Just take it away!' 'With pleasure', replied the duckler as it signalled to the other birds. Together they swooped down and, each one taking a piece of the skin in its beak, flew off with it. The Indians were annoyed and angry and, from then on, became the enemies of birds. The birds retired to a quiet spot in order to share the skin. They agreed that each one should keep the part that was in its own beak. The skin was made up of marvelous colors - red, yellow, green, black, and white - and had markings such as no one had ever seen before. As soon as each bird was provided with the part to which it was entitled, the miracle happened: until that time all birds had had dingy plumage, but now suddenly they became white, yellow, and blue ... The parrots were covered in green and red, and the macaws with red, purple, and gilded feathers, such as had never before been seen. The duckler, to which all the credit was due, was left with the head, which was black. But it said it was good enough for an old bird ..." (The Raw and the Cooked)
(Scarlet Macaws, Wikipedia) The 'lottery' by which colours were scattered among the different types of birds also included how the other characteristics - e.g. bird cries - were alloted: "M143. Arekuna. 'The origin of fish poison' (continued) The white egret took its piece [of the skin of 'Keyemen - the rainbow in the shape of a huge watersnake'] and sang, 'ā-ā', a call that it still has to this day. The maguari (Circonia maguari, a stork) did likewise and uttered its ugly cry: 'a(o)-a(o)'. The soco (Ardea brasiliensis, a heron) placed its piece on its head and wings (where the colored feathers are) and sang, 'koro-koro-koro'. The kingfisher (Alcedo species) put its piece on its head and breast, where the feathers turned red, and sang, 'se-txe-txe-txe'. Then it was the toucan's turn. It covered its breast and belly (where the feathers are white and red). And it said: 'kión-he, he kión-he'. A small piece of skin remained stuck to its beak which became yellow. Then came the mutum (Crax species); it put is piece on its throat and sang, 'hm-hm-hm-hm' and a tiny remaining strip of skin turned its nostrils yellow. Next came the cujubin (Pipile species, a piping guan), whose piece turned its head, breast, and wings white: it sang, 'krr' as it has done every morning since. Each bird 'thought its own flute made a pretty sound and kept it.' The richly colored plumage of the macaw is explained by the fact that it seized a large piece of skin and covered its whole body in it ... " (The Raw and the Cooked) The story goes on with more birds and then with the 'ground game' (tapir, capybara etc) who likewise got a piece of the rainbow snake. The watery world is inhabited by fishes and these can be killed by fish-poison: "M146. Arawak. 'The origin of fish poisoning.' An old man who was fond of fishing one day took his son with him to the river. Wherever the lad swam, the fish died. The father took the lad with him to bathe day by day till the fish knew of his plans and resolved to defeat him. They made up their minds to slay the boy. They dared not attack him in the water, so they chose an old log as the scene of the slaughter where the boy, after swimming, would bask in the sun. There the fish attacked him, and the stingray fatally wounded him. The father carried his son into the forest. When the dying youth saw his blood drop on the ground, he told his father of the curious plants that would grow wherever his blood took root, and he forecast that the roots of these plants would avenge his death." The watery world is a mirror image of the dry world. The fishes kill the boy, while birds and men killed the water snake. In both cases the skin of the dead miraculously generates plurality: birds and ground creatures receive their lots of colours, cries and so on from the dead rainbow snake, while the skin of the dying boy generates new plants. I have not (as yet) found any rongorongo glyphs suggesting this 'cosmic lottery', but the stingray, who 'fatally wounded' the boy basking in the sun, rings a bell. |
