The Path on the Rainbow, edited by George W. Cronyn, [1918], at sacred-texts.com
SA-A NARAÏ
So I heard it commanded, On the edge of the mesa, By the sitter on the mesa, In the season of falling leaves:
Count thou, my son, the lights on South Star Trail; Sa-a Naraï Trust not time nor strength—they are twin liars; Sa-a Naraï On track of birth-dance the mourners wail—
Sa-a Naraï The Tribe moves on—count thou the fires. Sa-a Naraï Beads, a few in falling rain; grains in desert sand; Sa-a Naraï The door of night swings wide—it will not close. Sa-a Naraï Still room for beads, dying hills for land; Sa-a Naraï The door is open—the Soul Trail glows. Sa-a Naraï I counted my sheep but not the bones; Sa-a Naraï A woman vows and goes her way; Sa-a Naraï Dust-wedded wealth—the desert owns— Sa-a Naraï Tomorrow smiles, while sad is yesterday. Sa-a Naraï Feast on wit and beauty—pendants of bone— Sa-a Naraï The eye-strings tie two souls today. Sa-a Naraï Fill the earthen bowl—fill jar of stone— Sa-a Naraï Youth blooms fresh—spring has not gone; Sa-a Naraï Winter gathers, gathers fruit of spring shower; Sa-a Naraï The frost-chain shakes—a soul moves on. Sa-a Naraï I saw a cripple, I saw a thief. Sa-a Naraï Go, hoe your corn with shoulder-blade of deer. Sa-a Naraï Where blows a wind, there stirs a leaf;
Sa-a Naraï A bone enghosts a hoe—greed your spear. Sa-a Naraï If Red Moccasin moans, who knows the way? Sa-a Naraï I am ashamed before that standing within me— Sa-a Naraï The spirit upward flies—it will not stay; Sa-a Naraï Follow soon, thou must, the Voice within thee. Sa-a Narai Shagwakwa laughs—in black night sings— Sa-a Naraï Give me my mother's bones—unto me, dreams! Sa-a Naraï A puff to the gods whither blue smoke wings— Sa-a Naraï Smoke now with me—soon the yellow line gleams. Sa-a Naraï Eat thy mother's flesh—she is the corn: Sa-a Naraï Is there a stranger who is not thy brother? Sa-a Naraï The One Above sung life—lo, love was born! Sa-a Naraï Hast shared the gift of thy first mother? Sa-a Naraï A little puff—a little kernel— Sa-a Naraï The Tribe moves on—it will not stay. Sa-a Naraï A little play by the trail eternal— Sa-a Naraï A little puff—lo, the South Star Way… So I heard it chanted.
Hey—ye! Hey! Hey—now go, gather, gather living arrows, gather! Stand ye in the white dawn— Crouch, spring, run! Hey now, plume feather, feather—eagle flying feather— Strike ye in the red dawn! Crouch, spring, run! Hey, now pray power of storm! Hey, now pray lightning's bolt! Hey, now pray power of flint! Hey, now pray weather, weather—war-like stormy weather! Slay ye in the yellow dawn— Crouch, spring, run! Hey, now go, gather, gather, bleeding bonnets gather—huh!
