In Praise of the Huntress

(for: Deborah Guzzi) The forest sings for her hunter The twin of the fierce panther – & I sing a sonorous song That echoes beyond the sky Of a thousand miles; I sing like Dinta the hunter Craving the hearts of clansmen & the soul of my native drum To greet a maiden of a lofty dance This huntress beyond the Niger’s banks! & fondly I bend to cast I poise pleasantly like laying a wreath To sing like Dinta the hunter To cast my songs on these marbles The marbles on her memory ’Tis a memory of a thousand miles To greet a maiden of a lofty dance This huntress beyond the Niger’s banks! A perfect cast I crave The melodious weaver’s band Of songsters, of dancers, of praise-singers I crave the ancient hearts of drummers To dance the dance, my native dance & drum the drum, my native drum To greet a maiden of a lofty dance This huntress beyond the Niger’s banks! For she who drank of the dregs Of yonder Niger’s banks 'Tis the rite, my write, our write The fruit of my forest The forest of my songs The songs of my drum The drum of my clan – O, the forest sings for her hunter A hunter still in poise for a huntress?