Native American Poetry

THE HEART’S FRIEND

THE CHILD IS INTRODUCED TO THE COSMOS AT BIRTH

DRUM SONG

I make them dance
those brave men
those brave men
every one of them.

THE APPROACH OF THE STORM

From the half
of the sky
that which lives there
is coming, and makes a noise.

ONG OF THE THUNDERS

Sometimes
I go about pitying
myself
while I am carried by the wind
across the sky.

I AM AFRAID OF THE OWL

Very much
also
I
of the owl
am afraid
whenever I am sitting alone
in the wigwam.

eath I make, singing
Heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh!
Bones I hack, singing
Heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh!
Death I make, singing!
Heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh! heh-yeh!

My love is swift as the deer; he would speed through the forest to find me.

Here I sit on this point, whence I can see the man that I love.

Our people think that they can sever us; but I shall see him while the world lasts.

Here shall I remain, in sight of the one I love.