Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The Tom-tomFrank S. Gordon
Tribal Songs from the South-west
D
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Pebble feet on drifting sand …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
I have lost the wife-made robe of bear-skin …
Take the prize—mine the loss.
Have I lost too the courage of the black bear—
His power, his thunder?
Lul-la-by,
Games’ queer lullaby …
O robe of mine!—
O luck of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Coyote feet upon the plain …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
Coyotes crushed the tender ham-string and the bone …
A bull-calf bawls, dies alone.
Where are the herds of buffalo and the hides,
The meat, the tepees?
Lul-la-by,
Man’s dread lullaby …
O home of mine!
O life of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Horse-hoof beat upon the ground …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
By Wounded Knee ye buried them, buried them—
Red men’s flesh, their bones …
By Wounded Knee we buried them, buried them.
The songs we sung, the dreams….
Lul-la-by,
The white man’s lullaby …
O race of mine!
O brothers mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Pulse-beat in the fever …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
Famine drank from the gourd bottle, ate the gourd;
Left the skin, the bone.
She walked the pathway from the east, of the departed—
Left me forsaken, alone….
Lul-la-by,
Tirawa’s long lullaby …
O blood of mine!
O child of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd.
Still feet in the grave-mound …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
The gourd-rattle handle leads to the sun and life;
Leaves clay, leaves cold.
A purple smoke arises from bowl to float on winds;
Leaves ashes—my ash….
Lul-la-by,
Death’s sweet lullaby …
O flesh of mine!
O hands of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Dream-feet in the yellow line …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
One half the feather of Tirawa’s bird is white;
The other black—’tis night;
Tirawa’s song at night is morning star of dawn
Where dance dreams, in light….
Lul-la-by,
The spirit’s lullaby …
O soul of mine!
O breath of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Calves’ feet in starry plains …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
A sacred herd graze on tips of fair fresh flowers
In garden—Star of Evening’s.
A bison drinks mixed all-waters, pure
From Spring; ’tis hers….
Lul-la-by,
All-Life’s lullaby …
O land of mine!
O plains of mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Dance-feet ’round the sun …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
By the sun see the dancing white men with the red—
By Wounded Knee, a post!
There they blend their songs together, brother-wise;
Here the post, the paint….
Lul-la-by,
The Nation’s lullaby …
O race of mine!
O brothers mine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Child feet in the hogan …
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
A child has taught her little spider pet to weave
Bead-work at my door;
A child has taught these dimming eyes to see
Thread-work, star-lit lodge …
Lul-la-by,
Love’s own lullaby …
O hogan mine!
O hogan thine!
Pebble-rattle in the gourd,
Soul-feet in trail of wind….
Drum-beat, beat of drums—
Hear the great sea-feet, beating on the flint-rock!
Drum-beat, beat of drum—
Hear the beat of distant feet on South Star Trail!
Drum-beat, beat of drum—
Ti-ra-wa!
Earth’s great Ti-ra-wa.
O heart-beat thine!
O drum-beat thine!