My friends I'll tell you the story
of my life if you wish
But if it were only the story
of my life I think I would not tell it
For what is one man
To make much of his winters
So many other men have lived to
Become grass upon the hills
But if the vision was true and mighty
As I know it is true and mighty yet
For such things are of the spirit
And it is in the darkness of their eyes that men forget
So I know it is a good thing
But no good can be done alone
I must first send a voice to the Spirits of the World.
With Visible Breath I am walking
A Voice I am sending as I walk
In a sacred manner I am walking
In a sacred manner I walk.
I was born a Lakota
In the moon of the popping trees
I was named for my father Black Elk It was 1863
The summer I was nine I had a great vision
The meaning of which no words can I ever tell to you
But the six grandfathers
they gave me the power
They gave me the knowledge to heal and to help...
With Visible Breath I am walking....
I was at the Little Big Horn
And I was at Wounded Knee
I did not know how much had ended then
But now I can see
The butchered men, women and children
lying scattered in heaps
were not the only dead that day
there died a Peoples Dream
So hear me, Great Spirit
Hear me, grandfathers
With running tears I must tell to you
That your tree has not flowered
Hear me for my people
That they may yet return
to living within the sacred hoop
That the sacred tree may yet bloom.
In sorrow I am sending
This feeble voice that I can give
O Six Powers of the world
Won't you make my people live...
of my life if you wish
But if it were only the story
of my life I think I would not tell it
For what is one man
To make much of his winters
So many other men have lived to
Become grass upon the hills
But if the vision was true and mighty
As I know it is true and mighty yet
For such things are of the spirit
And it is in the darkness of their eyes that men forget
So I know it is a good thing
But no good can be done alone
I must first send a voice to the Spirits of the World.
With Visible Breath I am walking
A Voice I am sending as I walk
In a sacred manner I am walking
In a sacred manner I walk.
I was born a Lakota
In the moon of the popping trees
I was named for my father Black Elk It was 1863
The summer I was nine I had a great vision
The meaning of which no words can I ever tell to you
But the six grandfathers
they gave me the power
They gave me the knowledge to heal and to help...
With Visible Breath I am walking....
I was at the Little Big Horn
And I was at Wounded Knee
I did not know how much had ended then
But now I can see
The butchered men, women and children
lying scattered in heaps
were not the only dead that day
there died a Peoples Dream
So hear me, Great Spirit
Hear me, grandfathers
With running tears I must tell to you
That your tree has not flowered
Hear me for my people
That they may yet return
to living within the sacred hoop
That the sacred tree may yet bloom.
In sorrow I am sending
This feeble voice that I can give
O Six Powers of the world
Won't you make my people live...
envoyé par giorgio - 23/9/2012 - 21:15
×
![]()
Music (for cello) by David Huebner
Album: David Huebner (A Solo Folk 'n cello experiment)