We are poor and weak.
We can do nothing alone.
Help us to be as we once were,
Happy hunters of buffalo.
“But the agent smiled, and the soldiers of the white chiefs sat not far off, their guns in their hands, and the moon passed by, and the east grew light, and we were very weary, and my heart was heavy. I looked to see the red come in the east. ‘When the sun looks over the hills, then it will be,’ I said to my friends. ‘The white man will become as smoke. The wind will sweep him away.’
“As the sun came near we all danced hard. My voice was almost gone. My feet were numb, my legs were weak, but my heart was big.
“‘Oh, help us, Great Spirits,’ we cried in despair.
“‘Father, the morning star,
Father, the morning star,
Look on us!