The Rivers
Before my sister came to us
we lived on the river, near the sea,
where waters pooled close to rocks
and where my language was taught to me.
And many were the people who sang songs
and many who talked with me.
When my sister came to us, she was put into my care,
I told her many stories and watched her learn to talk,
and we lived the life of the people who share
in the bounty of the river and dreamed the dreams of those
who breathed the fresh water smell of the air.
But some people went away and sang another song.
We talked and talked and our days were filled
with the lives of our children and our men
and we talked of the times that the river turned her back
and brought fear and death to our kin.
And people left and didn't return, their lives took another track.
My Sister was my very life, she was my daily song,
she was the flood of my happiness that carried me along.
We buried our dead and bore our sorrows,
we talked and shared our lives
and we heard how our language flowed,
how the torrent that it was, quietly become a trickle.
Then we were old and things had changed
and none spoke our language anymore
And when I spoke in the old way
there were none to hear what I say.
But when sister was there
we were like the sounds of the river,
Like the water chatling on the rocks,
like the breath of the wind in the tree tops,
and our talk talk talking never stops.
One day the talking stopped.
I called to her and she answered not,
I searched and found her by the river side,
And I watched her, sitting, back to a tree,
And a great black void opened under me.
She was beyond my warmth and love,
and I sat down there beside her.
And that river.... didn't stop.
My sister has left with my tongue,
Now it belongs to no other but me.
and never again will my true name be said
And none can whisper secrets to me.
No more will I hear the old songs sung
And never, ever, again will I hear my sister's call
along our rivers shore.
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