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From “Along the South Star Trail”
Tribal Songs from the South-west
SO I heard it commanded, | |
| On the edge of the mesa, | |
| By the sitter on the mesa, | |
| In the season of falling leaves: | |
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| Count thou, my son, the lights on South Star Trail; Sa-a Naraï | 5 |
| Trust not time nor strength—they are twin liars; Sa-a Naraï | |
| On track of birth-dance the mourners wail— Sa-a Naraï | |
| The Tribe moves on—count thou the fires. Sa-a Naraï | |
| Beads, a few in falling rain; grains in desert sand; Sa-a Naraï | |
| The door of night swings wide—it will not close. Sa-a Naraï | 10 |
| Still room for beads, dying hills for land; Sa-a Naraï | |
| The door is open—the Soul Trail glows. Sa-a Naraï | |
| I counted my sheep but not the bones; Sa-a Naraï | |
| A woman vows and goes her way; Sa-a Naraï | |
| Dust-wedded wealth—the desert owns— Sa-a Naraï | 15 |
| Tomorrow smiles, while sad is yesterday. Sa-a Naraï | |
| Feast on wit and beauty—pendants of bone— Sa-a Naraï | |
| The eye-strings tie two souls today. Sa-a Naraï | |
| Fill the earthen bowl—fill jar of stone— Sa-a Naraï | |
| Tomorrow the empty socket fill with clay. Sa-a Naraï | 20 |
| There weaves a frost-chain, bends a flower: Sa-a Naraï | |
| Youth blooms fresh—spring has not gone; Sa-a Naraï | |
| Winter gathers, gathers fruit of spring shower; Sa-a Naraï | |
| The frost-chain shakes—a soul moves on. Sa-a Naraï | |
| I saw a cripple, I saw a thief. Sa-a Naraï | 25 |
| Go, hoe your corn with shoulder-blade of deer Sa-a Naraï | |
| Where blows a wind, there stirs a leaf; Sa-a Naraï | |
| A bone enghosts a hoe—greed your spear. Sa-a Naraï | |
| If Red Moccasin moans, who knows the way? Sa-a Naraï | |
| I am ashamed before that standing within me— Sa-a Naraï | 30 |
| The spirit upward flies—it will not stay; Sa-a Naraï | |
| Follow soon, thou must, the Voice within thee. Sa-a Naraï | |
| Shagwakwa laughs—in black night sings— Sa-a Naraï | |
| Give me my mother’s bones—unto me, dreams! Sa-a Naraï | |
| A puff to the gods whither blue smoke wings— Sa-a Naraï | 35 |
| Smoke now with me—soon the yellow line gleams. Sa-a Naraï | |
| Eat thy mother’s flesh—she is the corn: Sa-a Naraï | |
| Is there a stranger who is not thy brother? Sa-a Naraï | |
| The One Above sung life—lo, love was born! Sa-a Naraï | |
| Hast shared the gift of thy first mother? Sa-a Naraï | 40 |
| A little puff—a little kernel— Sa-a Naraï | |
| The Tribe moves on—it will not stay. Sa-a Naraï | |
| A little play by the trail eternal— Sa-a Naraï | |
| A little puff—lo, the South Star Way ….. | |
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| So I heard it chanted. | 45 |
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