Best Corroboree Poems
Bloody streuth look out mate here they come
The Tourists Downunder to have some fun
Clickin’ their cameras, looking goggle eyed
While out in the hot sun getting deep fried
Askin’ for service and getting in our hair
Makes you wonder if there really all there
Thinkin’ it Spring in the middle of May
Speakin’ foreign lingo, as they say G’Day
Forget we’re multi-cultural and highly urbanized
Give em the Aussie salute that the ads advertise
Imports are out, the Aussie image wins
Now here’s were your work it really begins
Wear Moleskins, an Akubra, Drizabone
Hide the credit cards and Bluetooth phone
Cover the microwave, throw out Sarah Lee
From now on its damper, pavolvas and billy tea
Yack about the outback and the old pioneers
Have a bush Barbie and down a few beers
Quote a couple of verses from old Banjo
Hobnob round the fire, put on a dinkum show
Get out the four wheel and take em for a drive
Never mention our crooks can eat you alive
Ignore all the snakes, sharks, mozzies and the flies
Crows flying backwards, and them peckin’ magpies
Explain that kangaroos don’t hop down our streets
Nor for breakfast do we bush tucker eats
Throw a boomerang, take em to a corroboree
Tell em the tour guides take care of the fee
Bush dances are popular, and so is Uluru
Dingoes, frilled lizards and wallaby stew
Show em the Australia that we’ve never seen
Mate tourists on nature are so bloody keen
Let em hug a koala, they’re as cute as can be
Just watch the bloody bastards don’t on em pee
Before they go home, help them spend all their loot
Then add departure tax, so they’re real destitute.
Sing “Waltzing Matilda”, “Advance Australia Fair”
In those tourist dollars, we all want to share
This Aussie image to some may seem passé
Mate you watch em flock here, what more can I say!
Où allons nous? Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “Where are we going” by T. Wignesan
Ils sont venus dans une petite ville
Une bande à moitié nue soumise silencieuse
Tout ce qui restait de leur tribu.
Ils sont venus à leur vieux territoire bora
Où beaucoup d’hommes blancs maintenant vont et viennent
comme des fourmis.
La pancarte de l’agent immobilier dit: “Il est permis de jeter
des ordures ici.”
Maintenant les ordures couvrent plus que la moitié du cercle
de bora.
“Nous sommes maintenant comme des étrangers, mais la
tribu blanche est en réalité des étrangers.
La terre nous appartient, sommes nous les héritiers des
vieilles coutumes.
Nous sommes la corroboree* et la terre bora.
Nous sommes de vieux rites, les lois de nos aïeux.
Nous sommes des contes des émerveilles du Temps de Rêves,
des légendes racontées de tribus.
Nous sommes le passé, les chasses et les jeux qui nous font rire, les feux allumés autour de nos campements ici et là.
Nous sommes des éclairs sur la Colline Graphemba
Eclatants et effrayants,
Et le Tonnerre venant après lui, ce gars bruyant.
Nous sommes le lever du soleil silencieux
Illuminant pas à pas la lagune enterrée par la nuit.
Nous sommes des ombres-épouvantes revenant
subrepticement aux feux de campement qui
s’éteignent doucement.
Nous sommes la Nature et le Passé, tout ce qui comporte nos
vieilles traditions
Maintenant en train de disparaître ici et là.
Les broussailles sont détruites, ainsi la chasse et la
rire.
L’aigle, lui, est déjà parti, l’émeu et le kangourou ont aussi quitté les lieux.
Le cercle du bora a disparu.
La corroborée a disparue.
Et nous sommes en train de disparaître.
*An Australian Aboriginal dance ceremony which may take the form of a sacred ritual or an informal gathering. 'Aborigines living in the coastal Kimberley region of Australia's top end sometimes dance a corroboree re-enacting the arrival of dingoes to Australia. (Oxford English Dictionary)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Long, Long ago in a hut made of bark
Children awoke to a loud raptors hark,
Where misty moonlight filled the night sky
And shimmering stars twinkled up high.
They never did flinch from what they did hear
As birds were more vocal that time of year,
Day time like nighttime the animals spoke
To tell of their stories to all the kinfolk.
Plus not faraway a corroboree grew
Where they could peer out to get a vast view,
And what they did see had widened their eyes
They thought they were dreaming from such a surprise!
Aunties combined all clapping their sticks
A shadow was cast to lunar eclipse,
Didgeridoo loudened and looped
A traditional song for all who had grouped.
Singing had echoed and how it was grand
Whilst dancers kicked dust and golden white sand,
Though this was real common in such an event
Where music evoked all that was dreamt.
There through the flames and embers that flew
The children were puzzled if anyone knew...
As never before within their lifespan
Was sighted a dancing goanna-man.
The beauty
Of
Namatjira
White haired
Bark painter's
Of fish
Wandjina
Feathered man
Full sunset
Corroboree
Pintubi
Dancers
In watercourse
Colours
Of hills
And rangers
Near Henbury
Or was it
Kings canyon
South
Alice springs
Dome like peaks
Of Olga's
Stark landscape
Barren
Barkly
Near Soudan
Where
Dust storms
A common hazard
The faces
Of William Richetts
In the Maelstrom
Those colours
Of time
And day
House Wife's
Bushman
Children of the
Banka, Banka
Old hats
Tin shacks
The Southern Cross
Spinning
Creaking
Just there
In the sky
A Rhyme
To its own time
Wonky
Old water tank
Those proud
Spearman
From
Emily Gap
A shared history
Not us
Them
Just the
Layers of life
Turned sideways
Like
Krichauff Rangers
Somewhere
Out west
Where Echidna
Thorny Devil
( my favourite )
Freshwater tortoises
Swimming
Crocs
Beauty
In birds
Of flowers
Palms
In valleys
Secrets
Of bushman
Ringers
Dreams
Of its people
And fading
Its
Fading
Memories
Think I need a flag…
To reflect my being
Think I need a flag
For everyone sightseeing
To admire all my qualities
And individuality
A flag to tag not to brag
Though representing…
Me.
Think I need a flag…
To hold up very high
And higher it will go
Way up UP into the sky
Enormous it will be
Once it is erected
When it’s set you can bet
Will only be projected
With a colourful supersized
Pole to hold it fast
Bound to be forevermore
Quality to last
Think I need a flag…
To decorate the earth
A flag to symbolise myself
And all my riches worth
Once I have my flag
Will feel quite liberated
For ownership of my flag
Will be celebrated
From everyone around the world
Who’ll see my flag as fine
And a zillion duplicates to make
For the flag of mine
Think I need a flag…
To identify
All of me they will see
Me, Myself and I
Never will there be a flag
Better than my own
To blow around in the wind
To make myself well known
People they will love it
With corroboree
The greatest flag we ever had
Representing…
Me.
You said that I should see a whale -
a giant from the southern seas
swimming song-lines up the coast,
and so I came on board your boat
to wait and look.
You told me humpbacks follow
ancient ocean-routes
beyond their icy water-home,
bellies full of krill,
for corroboree
up north.
Aha! I see her!
Just like the sea is the sudden whale!
She’s breaching, grey on white –
a fluke – her tail! It’s huge!
Slap! Smack!
I saw a whale today.