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Velvet Elk Dec 2014
Piyak

Nipiyakwaskātikawin kiyāpic ce kisākihin
e macāwasisīwi yān ce Penāsin hāw
ninēstomon      ninanothacihikwak oki
ni wēsaki mosihtān      nipakamistikwanihokawin kanihithoyan

Sepī kinwastēwikamikwa ita mistāpiwak kinakiskawānawak
Nospatahten wēthipāpwi ekā ikēpakitatāmowīn
Nikanistāpāwān awikāchi nēyaw kitasipweyahotew
Nikaaskēthihten nikawi esi mihcicitik tapiskoc āniskawēthikosak

Tapwe kithipan asay pinipakāw
Māka Manitokosisān nitīhihk ayāw
Wētha e - apisīsisīyān ekwa e māthātiseyān. Nikakīpatisin
kiyam āta cmachātisēyān Nipīhkihik tāpisochkona
Namwac nikawihtēn nikapāpwān hāw
Namac nikawihtēn awikāci maciskotehk nikihtotān hāw


Niso

Pesim wapimēw tipiskāwi pesimwa tahtokesikāw
kēhkānakosiwak ācakosak pitowenam awēyak
Nikipahokanwin…Nikāwi
Nitakēhtēn tipistihona pihtokamihk
Pīhcāyik mistikowatihk nikīmocimāton
Nimāmitonithitēn epimmāsāhki ohcikiwāpowina
Nitakimāwak ahkētāp acāhkosak
Peyak mena neso tānihki, tanihki kohci kitimāhiyek
Tepwāsin nohtāwi e-tipiskāk ekwa e-kesikāk
kēmōc namwac kikawīhten
Kāwitha wīhta maciskotihk kikītisahotin
Kasākocihitin Tota kītitān
Nistomitanow nike taketason kihtwān
akehtaso isko kitaponipathik kihtwām



Nisto

Pipon! Titipi konakāw aski
nita okīsikohkān konihk
e-wāskāpit thoskisiw wāsisiw kona
pēyakwan enīmihitochik wāskā

nitosīhtān mistahiwāskahikan - chīstē
okimāskwīsis oma nētha nimistahiwāskahikanihk
namōtha wītha kitimāki nihithāsis
nimithosin ēkwa niwapiskisin tāpiskōch kona

Nikāwi - nikakwātakithawēsin
namotha ninohtē pīmātisin epakwātaman pimatisiwin
mena machihtowin.
Namōtha nohtaw athistiniw itāmihk nasakāhk
Tānthikoh kinwēs ota wihchēkanohk kāwīkipahokaweyān!
Ispē kiwēyāni nikasēkipatwān
Pimātisēyani āhpo nipēyāni, Nikāwi, nikasēkipatwān.



I

I’m here all alone. Do you still love me?
Am I bad? I’m sorry. Come get me. Please.
I cry and cry and cry, the big ones tease.
I hurt. She hits my head when I speak Cree.

In screaming bath houses we face giants.
I inhale black water with each blue breath.
Will I drown or float softly into death?
I miss you nimama in this city of ants.

All too slow the seasons change, the leaves go.
But now Jesus Christ lives inside my heart.
Since I’m a little, ugly girl. Not Smart.
Although, I’m bad He makes me white as snow.
I promise I won’t tell. I promise. Please.
And I won’t tell or I’ll go to hell. Please.


II

The fast sun tags the moon day after day.
Under bright stars echoing footsteps come
Inside the bad room I call for you nimama
I counted the steps along the hallway.

I stay in a box, in silence I cry
Shiny tear drop bubbles float in my mind
Beneath and behind sad stars, I count blind.
One plus one is two. Why? Why hurt me? Why?

Call me dear Father by night and by day.
And this is our secret, you will not tell.
Now don’t tell. I can send you straight to hell.
I’m bigger than you. You do what I say.
I can count to thirty over again
Count until it’s over, over again.

III

Winter has come! Snow has covered the world.
I’m a little snow angel that glimmers
In spirals, fluffy, shiny snow shimmers
See the dancing snow flakes around me twirl.

I made a castle. Look what I can do!
I’m the princess of my own snow castle.
No filthy little Indian rascal.
I am a pretty and white snow flake too.

Nimama, my chest crackles hot fiery red rage
How can I live when I hate life and sin?
Where there’s no less human in my skin.
How long will I stink and rot in this cage!?
And when I leave here I will wear my braids.
Forever Nimama I will wear my braids.

* Nimama * Plains Cree for Mom or Mother



#Cree Translation by B. Charles
Gil Cardoso Feb 2019
Sol queima a minha pele
Inicialmente
É agradavel
Depois, é dor

Como bolo doce que vou comer
Efeito da gulosia
Afoga o meu saber
Para mais tarde me aperceber
Que foi demasia
Aí puderei me arrepender

E então pergunto, qual é real?
Qual sigo nisto tudo
O presente ou o futuro?

Dizem-me “Carpe Diem!”
Então deixem-me comer bolo
Deixem-me queimar ao sol
Deixem-me viver a vida tolo

Depois dizem, “sê comedido”
“Tudo com moderação”
Então vivo o futuro agora
Não sigo prazer
Fujo à dor
Sempre a atrasar
A minha fatalidade

Eu sei lá

Mas enquanto escrevia isto
O sol fez o seu capricho
Tenho o poema terminado
E o meu braço queimado
Escrito: Maio 2018

— The End —