TEARS OF A NATIONI met a man of many colors And a tear was upon his cheek. "Old man" I ask, "why do you cry With such an agonizing weep?""Oh child" this man he says to me, "My heart is broken in so many ways That I believe this day to end Will find me out stretched and far within The encompassing earth of sin."I sat down beside this man And asked him "do not cry. For what you think is so bad That life will pass you by?"He looks at me with such sad eyes. And weeps ever more. He holds his hands out to me And alas, I do see The anguish of his heart.For his hands were different colors One is red and the other white, A leg he unclothed for me Was as yellow as could be And his other leg as black as night."I am the father of the world. In case you do not know. And my children have grown apart And fight among themselves.For when they do not get along My arms and legs and hands and feet Destroys the very life of me.My hands of red and white Will not feed this face of night. And my legs of black and yellow, Will not stand beneath this body And support my heart and soul.For they argue far too much, And now I have grown old.So here I sit in this haven Of unwelcomeness. And when this day ends, A father I will not be. For my children of many nations Have forgotten how to accompany me.I am quiet so that the Spirits can enter and call my name. I listen as they speak I hold no thought of shame.They come to me in the silence of the meditation by the fire. I open myself to the teachings and they fill my soul with desire.The Spirits come to tell me things I could not know. Of legends before my time and where the Spirits go.They talk of the souls of the departed sitting at the Wise Council in the sky. They tell of the coming again of things we thought had passed us by.The return of the buffalo on the plains, the return of the water so pure, they tell of the peace among the men who know the land so sure.Of hearts in the mending, of peace among us all. Of great men still standing long after the fall.Returning to a time where there was abundance in the land. And the land was shared by all before it left our hands.No matter what your Native American heritage, you have Spirits of your tribe reaching out to tell you of the legends. Be still and listen ... with pride.The Children Of Indians I was also one of those: The children who'd been taken then. The punishment the white man chose Was that their parents were forsaken them. . . Because they were the children of Indians.They'd divide us so we wouldn't fight: That's what they supposed back then. They'd turn our red skin into white And convert us to their religion. . . Because we were the children of Indians.But listen close and you can hear: The grumbling - the eruption's near. We've been silent but now it's time; The earth is rumbling - the awaited sign. . . For us, the children of the Indians.The Panther streaks across the sky. Tecumseh's footsteps shake the earth. We now begin to raise the cry To rise and fight for all we're worth. . . Because we are the children of Indians.And the Families once divided Are gathering now to fight. 'Cause we, the children, have long decided We'd rather be Indian than white. . . Because we are the children of Indians.So listen close and you can hear The grumble of the earthquakes here. He who's slept now gives the sign: The rumble begins - it's now our time. . . We are no longer children - We are the Indians!!
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I am that which is: A Navajo Person. This feeling is around, above, and below me... I am the Beauty Way stories From long ago...when skies and land were clear Before "misinterpretations" disrupted our ways, thoughts, and Lives as T'áá Diné: the Navajo People . . . And I: Being of Female Origin, and He: Being of Male Origin . . . Tenderly rise inside this round earth home: Nihimá Bighan . . . We put upon our feet: the moccasins. And enclose in our hands, and with reverence We hold to you: the corn pollen . . . We have risen at early dawn to greet Father Sun Warm, comforted and cuddled by rays of Gentle Spirits Silently, slowly, constantly and gently turning We have welcomed the all-loving Mother Earth . . . We sing songs: of despair, fear, and uncertainties . . . And throw these sensations to the stars . . . In its place we welcome: inspiration, love and strength To carry us through as T'áá Diné: the Navajo People . . . We pray To Dawn of Summer Rain Reds of sunset And Whites of Corn Pollen With garments made by Holy Beings We ask Dark Swirling Clouds To hear our humble voices Ringing out in valleys, hills, and along canyon walls . . . With renewed strength We stand before you In fine sash belts, silky shirts, and silver jewelry . . . We pray To the east: We ask that we reevaluate ourselves, Our values, and our belief systems . . . To the south: We ask that we live long happy lives, Perceiving aspects of "right" and "not right" decisions and the consequences that await us with each decision . . . To the west: We ask that we remember our connections To every other being by acknowledging our Clan Structure . . . May we be humble to "Walk Around" and to "Mexican Water" clans . . . May we remember to set goals, according to our needs, wants, and wishes . . . To the north: We ask that we continue to have hope, Respect, and perseverance: Of and about Nature . . . We ask that we remain humble every day, toward one another . . . May we always ask one another, "What are some ways . . . To solve our daily problems as T'áá Diné?" T'áá Diné:And may we through this process Feel assured of our capabilities . . . With a profound respect for every other entity around us With these thoughts in mind Oh Great Spirit We make our final turn And again: Face the west And therupon re-enter our Hooghan . . . And rest . . . I am that which is: A Navajo Person . . . T'áá Diné Nishi