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?
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