The Cry of The Native American
We were here first
(i-gv-ya o-gi-lu-tsv a-ha-ni)
Maybe the Cherokee cry
But we wanted their land
So they had to die
How could their rights
Have been explained?
The bow and arrow -
Against the gun ordained?
We took their homes -
They were mostly dead - when the deeds were done
What was theirs is ours - Yes! we have won
They had to die - we had no choice
Their punishment for owning - our land first
The Indians had been the custodians of the land.
(a-ni-yv-wi-ya o-s-da i-yu-nv-na-de-ga ga-do-hi)
But the cowboy turned the pastures into sand
And buffalo herds - very soon were damned
Sustainability was more the Indians way
a-ni-yv-wi-ya u-nv-sv a-na-li-s-de-li-s-gv.
But luxury to excess was more our "cup of tea"
We brought the Indians smallpox, pollution and T.B.
After two Hundred years we now see our wrongs
And we begin to listen to the Indian Songs
na-quu-no a-nv-da-di-s-do-di-quu i-ga
di-ga-ka-no-gi-s-do-di a-le i-ga-da
But sadly most of their tribes are gone
Now in the souvenir shops throughout the U.S.A
Indian proverbs are on display
Pictures of Geronimo, Sitting Bull and Chief Joseph
Are sort by tourist looking for proverbs and Indian motifs
Sayings of American Presidents are not bought
But Chief Red Cloud of the Sioux is eagerly sought
Why do we see the wisdom - yet our ancestors couldn't?
Or is it that they could - but wouldn't
The American Indians say
"There is one God looking down on us all"
Has the Native American salvation come at last
And will the "Great One" now be just.
Albert Gazeley © 2003