DEATH SONG.
1. In opening this song the warrior is to be contemplated as lying wounded on the field of battle.
| A´ be tuh gé zhig, | (Under the centre of the sky,) |
| Ne bá baim wä´ wä. | (I utter my baim wä wä.) |
Baimwäwä, is the sound of passing thunders, which will convey a just idea of the violence of this figure.
2. His thoughts revert to the star of his destiny.
| Ain dah´ so gezhig | (Every day, thou star!) |
| Ke gá gun o wá bom in. | (I gaze at you.) |
It is the morning star that is here alluded to.
3. He sees the birds of carnage hovering over the field.
| A´ be tuh geézh-ig | (The half of the day) |
| Ai be yaun | (I abide—gazing) |
| Pe nä se wug | (Ye warlike birds.) |
4. He keeps the flight of these birds before his mind and hears their shrill cries.
| Pe misk wosh e wug | (They fly round the circuit of the sky.) |
| Pe nä´ se wug | (The birds—circling) |
| A´ be tuh geezh ig oag. | (Round half the circuit of the sky.) The meaning is, approaching him in circle more nearly, as life becomes fainter in him. |
5. This figure is continued. He lies bleeding.
| A´ zha waush e wug | (They cross the enemy's line) |
| Pe nä se wug. | (The birds.) |
6. He feels that he is called to another world.
| A pit she Mon e doag | (The high gods) |
| Ne mud wä wä | (My praise) |
| Wá we ne goag. | (They sound.) |
7. He is content and willing to go.
| Kä gait´, ne min wain´ dum | (Full happy—I) |
| Ne bun aí kum ig | (To lie on the battle-field) |
| Tshe bá be wish e naun. | (Over the enemy's line.) |
DEATH-SONG—"A´ be tuh gé zhig."
(From the Algonquin of Schoolcraft.)
BY C.F. HOFFMAN.
| I. |
| Under the hollow sky, |
| Stretched on the Prairie lone, |
| Centre of glory, I |
| Bleeding, disdain to groan, |
| But like a battle cry |
| Peal forth my thunder moan, |
| Baim-wä wä! |
| II. |
| Star—Morning-Star, whose ray |
| Still with the dawn I see, |
| Quenchless through half the day |
| Gazing thou seest me— |
| Yon birds of carnage, they |
| Fright not my gaze from thee! |
| Baim-wä-wä! |
| III. |
| Bird, in thine airy rings |
| Over the foeman's line, |
| Why do thy flapping wings |
| Nearer me thus incline? |
| Blood of the Dauntless brings |
| Courage, oh Bird to thine! |
| Baim-wä-wä! |
| Hark to those Spirit-notes! |
| Ye high Heroes divine, |
| Hymned from your god-like throats |
| That Song of Praise is mine! |
| Mine, whose grave-pennon floats |
| Over the foeman's line! |
| Baim-wä-wä! |
Where are my foes? say, warriors, where? No forest is so black,
That it can hide from my quick eye, the vestige of their track:
There is no lake so boundless, no path where man may go,
Can shield them from my sharp pursuit, or save them from my blow.
The winds that whisper in the trees, the clouds that spot the sky,
Impart a soft intelligence, to show me where they lie,
The very birds that sail the air, and scream as on they go,
Give me a clue my course to tread, and lead me to the foe.
The sun, at dawn, lifts up his head, to guide me on my way,
The moon, at night, looks softly down, and cheers me with her ray.
The war-crowned stars, those beaming lights, my spirit casts at night
Direct me as I thread the maze, and lead me to the fight.
In sacred dreams within my lodge, while resting on the land,
Bright omens of success arise, and nerve my warlike hand.
Where'er I turn, where'er I go, there is a whispering sound,
That tells me I shall crush the foe, and drive him from my ground.
The beaming WEST invites me on, with smiles of vermil hue,
And clouds of promise fill the sky, and deck its heavenly blue,
There is no breeze— there is no sign, in ocean, earth or sky,
That does not swell my breast with hope, or animate my eye.
If to the stormy beach I go, where heavy tempests play.
They tell me but, how warriors brave, should conquer in the fray.
All nature fills my heart with fires, that prompt me on to go,
To rush with rage, and lifted spear, upon my country's foe.