O' Europe,
Our Mother Earth was always young, before your people came,
came and were greeted as friends,
came but ached to create of our lives and our homeland, an abattoir
Now Mother Earth is old and weak and moans in the heart of night,
and weeps at the dawning
Vast rivers that danced, crashing to the ocean for all seasons,
are dry
and often clouds of dust come from them,
as ancient winds whisper to perishing Earth
Mountains are scarred
and now a victim, they bleed
Forests that dwelled in soft beauty
during the seasons of my Great-Grandmother,
are blotted from earth
by a greedy hand
The vast and beautiful valley of my birth
is divided and is now private possession.
In captivity
it trembles from this gnarled thinking.
O' Europe, you witnessed this vast land
the beauty,
the wonder,
the people balanced with nature
Emerging from imbalance,
you were not prepared to encounter balance
and you identified beautiful life as "neglect,"
then set your unclean selves to improving it
Your son, Columbus, 500 years ago,
began your heinous activiuty by kidnapping my people
to deliver to a Queen
to be used for slaves or living pieces of her museum.
after killing the people of many villages to do so
O'Europe, you and your descendants are unchanging!
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
"Hay" (thought - the old ones called it 'thinkings'); "dutsi" (the actions of thought, thought bubbling like Alka-Seltzer, a churning, a refining); "la"(the outcome of that action, end product)
Hay’dutsi’la (by thinking with the mind)
According to our legends, hay'dutsi (thought) was the "first thing." Then there was tosok'jami (dream) This universe was not present, only hay'dutsi in the vastness. Thought thought and thought, "for a million years or more" and thought itself into voice. Thought thought voice should be pretty so changed to song. Song dreamed and sang "for a million years or more," then that which we are familiar with as the universe slowly began to appear.
Hay'dutsi'la means "by thinking." Anthropology will attempt to convince everyone that natives the world over are incapable of thought, but it is that study that in its rush to degrade natives has robbed the world of precious thought and dreams. Thought is the driving force of this hemispheric's indigenous, and has been for a very long time, dreams and thought. With this blog I expect to contact thinkers and dreaming children.
The European concept of native people being incapable of thought, by the Study of Man, and confused by the God-concepts that formed European thought, spread across the indigenous homelands, a blanket of hegemony, wounded by rote education, neglected in the realm of the great thinkers, Assigned a special place on the ladder of civilization, one step backwards and downwards, rendered mute by higher education and understood by the masses as frivolous or nonexistent, has caused native thought patterns the world-over to seek refuge in silence.
In that silence the study-of-man then finds a great arena where continuous and irreparable societal damage is constantly inflicted by the “learned” experts of the modern world.
Hay'dutsi'la means "by thinking." Anthropology will attempt to convince everyone that natives the world over are incapable of thought, but it is that study that in its rush to degrade natives has robbed the world of precious thought and dreams. Thought is the driving force of this hemispheric's indigenous, and has been for a very long time, dreams and thought. With this blog I expect to contact thinkers and dreaming children.
The European concept of native people being incapable of thought, by the Study of Man, and confused by the God-concepts that formed European thought, spread across the indigenous homelands, a blanket of hegemony, wounded by rote education, neglected in the realm of the great thinkers, Assigned a special place on the ladder of civilization, one step backwards and downwards, rendered mute by higher education and understood by the masses as frivolous or nonexistent, has caused native thought patterns the world-over to seek refuge in silence.
In that silence the study-of-man then finds a great arena where continuous and irreparable societal damage is constantly inflicted by the “learned” experts of the modern world.
Please support Hay'dutsi'la; many thanks for your kindness
Email Subscriptions powered by FeedBlitz
Subscribe to Podcast
Darryl "Babe" Wilson
In 1939 Sul'ma'ejote, aka Darryl Babe Wilson, me, was born in Qatsade (Fall River Valley) on the north bank of Sul'ma'ejote (Fall River) at Fall River Mills, a stone toss from It'ajuma (Pit River). Like many native families at that time, my family shadowed in and out of civilization. When I was in the second grade in the Fall River Valley, my mother was killed in a lumber truck-automobile accident. The family shattered, the state caught us and we were scattered in California, but out of our homeland. Summers we managed to run back to our homeland, our people, the dream of life and the ancient dance of nature's powers.
In my gnarled and old age, I look back across the ages and see with my heart that the wonder and magic of children can very well be the emotion that manages to hold earth close enough to sun to make life livable. My parting thought to this earth is captured in my last book length manuscript: Two Moon.
Click here for a more complete version of my bio.
In my gnarled and old age, I look back across the ages and see with my heart that the wonder and magic of children can very well be the emotion that manages to hold earth close enough to sun to make life livable. My parting thought to this earth is captured in my last book length manuscript: Two Moon.
Click here for a more complete version of my bio.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2008
(58)
-
▼
July
(16)
- FIRE!
- ENERGY
- Cuauhxihuitl
- UNCHANGING
- Chains
- Divided States
- Divided States
- RESTITUTION
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, THE ONLY TREATY ...
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, SURRENDER
- Choice
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, Listen! The bea...
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, Table of Contents
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, Foreward
- 500 Years Dwelling Among Savages, Introduction
-
▼
July
(16)
2 comments:
I'm so, so sorry we did this. I would give anything to undo it all.
I feel like I've killed my best friend. My group was so blind with ambition we stabbed our loved ones and our friends and didn't realize what a horrible thing we had done until it was too late. We thought it would get us somewhere, that if we could only make the whole world line up with our way of living, things would stop being so painful. That the wounds we've been carrying as a people would go away if we could just get everything, fill this blackhole inside with so much stuff and so many 'things' that it would be satisfied and go away. Instead we managed to rip apart a beautiful people and force our monster and our emptiness onto them.
Every time I think about what's happened it makes sick. I couldn't even tell you how much I want to make things better.
Whatever happened wrong to us to make us such an empty, sick people, it wasn't your problem and I wish we had kept it inside instead of inflicting it on the people of America. I don't know how this happened. I feel like I'm looking down at a knife, seeing the look of shock and sadness on my friend's face and only too late realizing what a horrible thing I've done. That I was welcomed and loved and when I got so caught up in my ambition to find happiness, I destroyed the one thing that could have stopped the loneliness and the emptiness and made me whole. My group screwed up unforgivably badly and I'm so, so, so sorry.
I know many of the native peoples are still around. And the Indian communities are starting to regrow, to restore some part of the traditional ways. It's beautiful to see. It's always seemed like a magnificent tree that's been cut down, kicked, beaten to try to kill it, yet years later a few small, healthy leaves are regrowing. For the rest of the world I think some of the things that were known are still around in the minds of people in secret, unable to make their presence known because the environment is too hostile to let them appear, hiding between the lines the way the rainbow colors hide in the light until a prism splits them. Even with these desperate times the Indian peoples have been able to bundle some of the most important things they know and slip them under the door, hidden out of sight but still in some way continued. It's devastating how much has been lost. But something of it is still there, something that has left its imprint in a million ways on the world.
Your poem made me cry. I love you and I love all the people.
Post a Comment