THE BLIZZARD

Whipped onwards by the North Wind
The air is filled with the dust of driven snow:
The earth is hidden,
The sky is hidden,
All things are hidden,
The air is filled with stinging,
Before, behind, above, below,
Who can turn his face from it?
All the animals drift mourning, mourning. . .
Only the Gray Wolf laughs.

Who are ye who wallow in the winds?
Who are ye who strike with stinging blows?
Man-beings out of the North?
Beast-beings out of the North?
Snow-beings with fingers of thin ice?
I am a Daughter of the South:
My lips are soft, my breath is warm,
My heart is beating wildly,
I cannot live in the cold. . .
All my animals drift mourning, mourning. . .
Only the gaunt Gray Wolf is laughing.

Tomorrow three suns will rise, side by side;
All the earth will be covered with dazzling snow,
Cold, cold, and very quiet. . .
The animals will lie buried in the snow,
Cold, and very quiet. . .
But the gaunt Gray Wolf will break a new trail,
Running, with three shadows blue upon the snow.

(From: American Indian Myth Poems BY HARTLEY ALEXANDER)
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LaFille, Toujours un peu sauvage.