Sa-a Narai
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The Path on the Rainbow, edited by George W. Cronyn, [1918], at sacred-texts.com
SA-A NARAÏ
On the edge of the mesa,
By the sitter on the mesa,
In the season of falling leaves:
Count thou, my son, the lights on South Star Trail;
Sa-a Naraï
Trust not time nor strength—they are twin liars;
Sa-a Naraï
On track of birth-dance the mourners wail—
p. 194
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
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
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
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
Go, hoe your corn with shoulder-blade of deer.
Sa-a Naraï
Where blows a wind, there stirs a leaf;
p. 195
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
The spirit upward flies—it will not stay;
Sa-a Naraï
Follow soon, thou must, the Voice within thee.
Sa-a Narai
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
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
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…
So I heard it chanted.
p. 196
ON THE WAR-PATH
Hey!
Hey—now go, gather, gather living arrows, gather!
Stand ye in the white dawn—
Crouch, spring, run!
Hey now, plume feather, feather—eagle flying feather—
Strike ye in the red dawn!
Crouch, spring, run!
Hey, now pray power of storm!
Hey, now pray lightning's bolt!
Hey, now pray power of flint!
Hey, now pray weather, weather—war-like stormy weather!
Slay ye in the yellow dawn—
Crouch, spring, run!
Hey, now go, gather, gather, bleeding bonnets gather—huh!
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