Part 1
This book has been printed from type, and the type distributed.
The edition is limited to 750 copies, numbered and signed by the author and the illustrator.
This copy is No. 395
GOD’S DRUM
[Illustration]
_By the Same Author_ MANITO MASKS
_E. P. Dutton & Company_
[Illustration: Tonatiuh]
GOD’S DRUM And Other Cycles From Indian Lore
_Poems by_ HARTLEY ALEXANDER
_Illustrations by_ ANDERS JOHN HAUGSETH
[Illustration]
NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 681 Fifth Avenue
Copyright, 1927 By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. THE CHANTING EARTH
The Sun’s First Ray 3
The Wet Grass of Morning 4
Birds and Frogs 9
The Pines are Thinking 10
Day and Night 15
When We Dance 16
God’s Drum 17
The Cities of White Men 18
The Sun’s Last Ray 23
II. ON THE PRAIRIE
The Winds 27
Dust Eddies 28
Tumbleweeds 29
The Thunder 30
Mirage 35
The Blizzard 36
The Eagle, also, Dies 38
The Trail 43
III. SPIRIT SONGS
Each Time I Behold Her 47
Sunstruck 48
The Bird of War 53
The Playthings of Children 54
A Lock of Hair 55
Her Robe Is Broidered 56
Rain-in-the-Face 57
I am Running 58
The Last Song 63
The Dreams are Walking 64
IV. THE RED APOCALYPSE
The Serried Rockies (Boulder) 67
The Mummy (Estes Park) 68
The Priests (Estes Park) 74
Palingenesis 79
Eschatology 86
The Origin of Death 88
To a Child’s Moccasin 93
The Only Good Indian 99
V. POEMS OF PUEBLO LAND
Earth’s Terraced Bowl 103
The Corn Maidens 128
Saint Dominic’s Day 145
Flower Alone 159
The Pottery Peddler 167
The Dead Pueblo 173
VI. AZTEC GODS
Tezcatlipoca 211
Xochiquetzal 217
Quetzalcoatl 218
Tonatiuh 225
Xiuhtecutli 231
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Tonatiuh _Frontispiece_
The Sun’s First Ray 7
Day and Night 13
The Sun’s Last Ray 21
Mirage 33
The Trail 41
The Bird of War 51
The Last Song 61
The Mummy (Estes Park) 71
The Priests (Estes Park) 77
Palingenesis 83
To a Child’s Moccasin 91
The Only Good Indian Is a Dead Indian 97
Earth’s Terraced Bowl--I 107
Earth’s Terraced Bowl--II 119
The Corn Maidens 131
Saint Dominic’s Day--I 143
Saint Dominic’s Day--II 151
Flower Alone 157
The Pottery Peddler 165
The Dead Pueblo--I 171
The Dead Pueblo--II 181
The Dead Pueblo--III 187
The Dead Pueblo--IV 193
The Dead Pueblo--V 199
Tezcatlipoca 209
Xochiquetzal 215
Quetzalcoatl 221
Xiuhtecutli 229
I
THE CHANTING EARTH
[Illustration]
GOD’S DRUM
THE SUN’S FIRST RAY
This early Morning, This earliest Dawning, Behold the Youth, Streaked with flaming red, Wearing in his hair a waving feather, Into the Sky ascending!
Upon me, Standing alone where the World is-- Upon me comes the shining of his Ray.
I, too, shall be ruddy with new life! I, too, shall wear in my hair the eagle’s plume! This day shall be fulfilled with accomplishment; Valiantly I shall ascend into the Sky!
THE WET GRASS OF MORNING
In the spring when I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning, I see many smiles upon the meadows....
There are drops of shining dew clinging to the blue harebells, And the little white starflowers sparkle with dew, shining....
Old Woman Spider has beaded many beautiful patterns, Spreading them where the Sun’s ray falls....
He also is smiling as he catches the red of the blackbird’s opening wing, As he harkens to the mocking-bird inventing new songs....
I was an old man as I sat by the evening fire; When I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning I am young again.
[Illustration: The Sun’s First Ray
_Upon me, standing alone where the World is-- Upon me comes the shining of his Ray!_ ]
BIRDS AND FROGS
The birds that sing in the morning, Them I can understand: They call to one another proudly; Proudly they descant their songs; Proudly they look about, eager for response.
But the frogs that sing when it is evening; I cannot understand them: They sing all at once, each one attentive to himself; They stop all at once, none gives an answer; The frogs have voices, they have not ears.
Some men are like the birds; Some women are like the frogs.
THE PINES ARE THINKING
The cottonwood trees, growing in clumps, They are very loquacious, conversing with one another.
But the tall pines are like men in meditation, They seldom have anything to say.
In winter the leaves of the cottonwoods are fallen, Their branches are shelterless; But the pine-trees are always green.
[Illustration: Day and Night
_The Day is a blue Man, with a burning heart... The Night is a Woman, with a changing heart..._ ]
DAY AND NIGHT
The Day is a blue Man with a burning heart; The bright clouds are his feather ornaments; The dark clouds are his spacious robes; The whole world is his rich possession, And the shining birds are the choirs that praise him: He is the Chieftain of all that live, And men call him ‘Father’....
The Night is a Woman with a changing heart, Which sometimes she reveals and sometimes she hides, And sometimes she sends palely, palely, after the Day; But her stars she keeps with her, always upon her bosom, For her stars are her little children that must be carried: Her stars are the spirits of all that die, And men call her ‘Mother’....
WHEN WE DANCE
When we dance all together, We men: The drummers beat their drums, The singers sing.... In the midst of the vast prairie We are very small.
Feathers are waving in the bright sunlight: Colors are flashing in the bright sunlight: A thin dust is floating upward where our feet are beating the brown earth.
We are dancing because we do not know what to do about our lives: All together we are dancing because we wish to live.... In the midst of the vast prairie We are a very small nation, We men.
GOD’S DRUM
The circle of the Earth is the head of a great drum; With the day, it moves upward--booming; With the night, it moves downward--booming; The day and the night are its song.
I am very small, as I dance upon the drum-head; I am like a particle of dust, as I dance upon the drum-head; Above me in the sky is the shining ball of the drum-stick.
I dance upward with the day; I dance downward with the night; Some day I shall dance afar into space like a particle of dust.
Who is the Drummer who beats upon the earth-drum? Who is the Drummer who makes me to dance his song?
THE CITIES OF WHITE MEN
Those men build many houses: They dig the earth, and they build; They cut down the trees, and they build; They work always--building.
From the elevation of the mountain-side I behold the clouds: The clouds build many beautiful houses in the sky: They build, and they tear down; They build, and they dissolve....
The cities of white men, They are not beautiful, like the cloud cities; They are not vast, like the cloud cities....
A wind-swept teepee Is all the house I own....
[Illustration: The Sun’s Last Ray
_Thou dost touch the World with many reflections, With parting injunctions many,-- Thy thought thou hast given us._ ]
THE SUN’S LAST RAY
Upon the blue mountain I stood, Upon the mountain as he sank into the Rivers of Night: The camps of the clouds in the heavens were shining with evening fires, many-colored, And the pools on the plain below gleamed with many reflections: All things were made precious with the Day’s last ray.
Farewell, my Father, the Shining One! Farewell, whither thou goest, Like an aged chieftain adorned with the splendors of many deeds! Thou dost touch the world with many reflections, With parting injunctions many---- Thy thought thou hast given us.
II
ON THE PRAIRIE
[Illustration]
THE WINDS
The wind is coming to me, Coming to me with coolness, Coming to me with fullness, Breathing upon me---- The Spirit Wind.
Fanned onward by wings cloud-feathered, Soft with white snow, gray with misty rain, Fragrant and freshening, come the winds---- The Spirit Winds.
They breathe upon my body, They lave me in their coolness, With their fullness they obliterate me....
Death, too, is a Spirit; Death, too, is a Wind.
DUST EDDIES
Whirling dust-clouds dance on the prairies---- Whirling the dust-clouds dance!
Her loosened hair swirls like a dust-cloud! Her lithe brown arms are tossing aloft! I see her white teeth flash as she smiles!
Ah, ah! I am a dust-cloud whirling! Ah, ah! I am a dancing warrior! I dance, dance, dance, on the prairies!
I dissolve.... Into dust....
TUMBLEWEEDS
Great Heads, rolling over the lands.... Giant Heads, tumbling, leaping, pursuing!
Tangled and shaggy, gnashing their cannibal jaws, Bellowing with the winds, they come....
The lightning reveals them, eyeless, infuriated, Leaping over the lands--Great Heads, pursuing!
Are they the Race of the Shamefully Dead? Forever dishonored, forever enraged?
Great Heads, tumbling, leaping, gnashing.... The place of their rest no man hath discovered.
THE THUNDER
I am the Thunder, I am the Thunder,---- Sometimes I go Pitying myself.... Sometimes in wonder Grieving through the skies....
Many Thunders are gone, Many Thunders are flown In the old days,---- Great Birds of Night, Rain-laden Birds With flame-blinking eyes....
I am the Thunder, I am the Thunder,---- Oft-times alone, Oft-times in wonder Pitying myself.... Oft-times in fright Of mine own sounding words, Grieving through the night,---- I, the winged Thunder....
[Illustration: Mirage
_Are they men who come out of the silence to walk beside me? Are they gods who flit with invisible wings?_ ]
MIRAGE
The footfalls of many feet are on the prairies, Treading softly, like the rustling of shaken grasses; In the air about me is a sound scarce audible, As of the wings of silent birds, low-flying....
What are they that move in the luminous mid-day, Invisibly, intangibly?...
It is hot and whisperingly still; I see only the quivering air there on the far horizon, And beyond it a lake of cool water lifted into the sky: Pleasant groves are growing beside it, Very distant I see them....
Are these men come out of the silence to walk beside me? Are these gods who flit with invisible wings?
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? Shadow-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 snow,---- Cold, and very quiet.... But the gaunt Gray Wolf will break a new trail, Running, with three shadows, blue upon the snow.
THE EAGLE, ALSO, DIES
With his hooked beak, With his hooked talons, With battle-plumes outspread,----
His beak is a driven lance-head; His talons are scarlet arrows, His voice is a war-cry!
When he circles the sky The birds suddenly cease their singing, The rabbit becomes rigid.
“The hurricane is my horse, “The black tornado is my charger, “Earth trembles where I strike!”
Wherefore do you fear, O Warrior? For the strongest there is a Fate: The Eagle, also, dies.
[Illustration: The Trail
_Wide is the trail of many buffalo._ ]
THE TRAIL
Very pleasant are the prairies, oh! Wide is the trail of many buffalo; Here it was our fathers wandered through the moons of long ago, Following on the trails that lead to and fro.... Very pleasant are the grassy prairies, oh! Following on the trail of many buffalo.... Ah, where went our elders, thither all must go.
III
SPIRIT SONGS
[Illustration]
EACH TIME I BEHOLD HER
Each time I behold her again I am lost in wonder.... Is her beauty but for a season, like that of the rose? Are we men but as the drunken butterflies?
A hundred comely women are in her eyes, Where she stands in the midst of life.... She is the daughter of many tribes, She is the mother of many tribes....
Of what use to me are eyes? Ears only I need---- For her voice I am listening.
SUNSTRUCK
Now he wears sunflowers in his hair, And dances all day long toward the Sun, nodding....
They say that he was a brave youth, and sensible, Until he dreamed about the Sun.
My mind is like a fitful wind among the fallen leaves.... It gathers them ... and lets them drop.... It turns them ... and lets them drop....
[Illustration: The Bird of War
_I cannot forget how it was when I died._ ]
THE BIRD OF WAR
On mighty pinions flying, The Bird of War, the Bird of War!
I shout to the skies! In triumph I shout!... The hollow sky answers me back....
Men live not forever, Men battle and die.... Like eagles their souls ascend the hollow sky.
* * * * *
The warriors pass, The young men pass.... In his place I cannot see him....
In the night I hear him crying, In the night I hear him pleading.... The spirit stars are rising....
* * * * *
When they dug up my bones they painted them red.... Red was upon my body when I died; I cannot forget how it was when I died.
THE PLAYTHINGS OF CHILDREN
The playthings of children.... they laugh and they pretend, their voices are unconcerned and happy....
The fallen feathers of birds amuse them,---- even to the slightest touch the caterpillar is very sensitive....
They amuse themselves, too, with the round smooth object which they roll over the ground, pretending....
There is a scar upon it, where the knife struck when the hair was torn away....
The playthings of children.... they talk unconcernedly, they laugh, they pretend....
A LOCK OF HAIR
It is only crying about myself that comes to me in song, It is only tears....
When the young men go by, happy, When the young girls go by, happy, I seem to see someone with them....
How lifelike is a lock of hair when all the body is decayed!
HER ROBE IS BROIDERED
Her robe is broidered with white daisies; Her hair is braided with blue feathers; On her little feet are new moccasins.
Ah, she was near to me! Ah, she was dear to me! On her little feet are new moccasins.
The grass is broidered with white daisies; Bluebirds in the air are hovering low; Between earth and sky, the burial scaffold. On her little feet are new moccasins.
RAIN-IN-THE-FACE
Rain in the face---- Rain in the face---- The world is gray with falling waters, The world is sad with falling tears....
Alone I walked, questioning Father Sky,---- Alone---- seeking to divine the cause of Sorrow....
They named me Rain-in-the-Face....
I AM RUNNING
I am running a swift race: My body is painted with the symbols of swiftness; In my hair are the plumes of swift-flying birds; Tight-clasped, I hold in my hand a charm.
Who is he who is running beside me? His shadow is purple and very angry; His shadow is very swift; I dare not look about.
Something scarlet is bobbing before my eyes---- Something which I should remember.... Is it a beautiful flower? Or is it ... something which I should remember?
The goal is a gleaming mountain: Before I can touch it I must cross a dark canyon, I must cross the purple shadows of deep earth.
[Illustration: The Last Song
_I would look upward, with open eyes, singing!_ ]
THE LAST SONG
Let it be beautiful when I sing the last song---- Let it be day!
I would stand upon my two feet, singing! I would look upward with open eyes, singing!
I would have the winds to envelope my body; I would have the sun to shine upon my body; The whole world I would have to make music with me!
Let it be beautiful when thou wouldst slay me, O Shining One! Let it be day when I sing the last song!
THE DREAMS ARE WALKING
The Dreams are walking, walking, The Dreams are walking beside me---- Ah hay ay, hay ay ay ay ay.... I hear them rustling the withered grasses, I hear them stirring the fallen leaves---- Ah hay ay, ay ay ay ay....
Very faint are their footfalls, Very soft are their whispering voices---- Ah hay ay, hay ay ay ay ay.... All their touches are caresses---- Ah hay ay, ay ay ay ay....
O come to me, touch me with tenderness! O come to me when my heart is desolate! Ah hay ay, hay ay ay ay ay.... Come walking beside me, Come walking in beauty---- Ah hay ay, ay ay ay ay....
IV
THE RED APOCALYPSE
[Illustration]
THE SERRIED ROCKIES
Great Shields brunting the plain, motionless: The red Warriors peer over them stonily.
The lances of Morning are flung aloft! The Plains rise up with a fierce cry---- The Tribes of the Dawn are exultant!
Great Shields brunting the plain, purple after the day: The dark Warriors peer over them grimly.
THE MUMMY (Estes Park)
In the time of the First Race, In the time of the Giants, In the time of the Earth-Shapers,----
Their axes were flakes of cliffs, Their mallets were the knobs of mountains, The great rocks roared with the sound of their handiwork,----
He was a Chieftain among them, He was their First Counsellor, He was the Master Builder when they upreared mighty hills and clave the deep valleys....
For the place of his Mummy they hewed the crested Earth, For the sarcophagus of his Mummy they established a Mountain, In the days when his work was completed, he, the First Counsellor!
Above the changing clouds they raised him high; They set his face to the eternal blue; His eyes they set to the westering Sun....
What is it that thou dost behold, O Chieftain of the Earth-Shapers? What is it that thou dost look upon within the mirror of the skies? With thy stony eyes, what is it that thou dost see--forever?
Men are, and they are not; Tribes are, and they are not; Nations are, and they are not,----
Beyond the cycles of the years, Beyond the portals of time, What is it that thou dost behold, with stony eyes, with unchanging heart?
Immutable, thou gazest into the blue---- Maker to Maker! Imperturbable, thou facest the westering Sun---- Chieftain to Chieftain!
[Illustration: The Mummy (Estes Park)
_Immutable, thou gazest into the blue-- Maker to Maker! Imperturbable, thou facest the Westering Sun-- Chieftain to Chieftain!_ ]
THE PRIESTS (Estes Park)
Holy, holy, holy! The high hills, the Great Mystery!... The procession of the mountains is eternal, The great mountains, each in his station abiding.... The crests of the mountains are exalted, In the glories of the heavens they are transfigured!
Holy, holy, holy! The high hills, the Great Mystery!... The mountains lift up their heads---- Into the azure they lift them up; Their bodies are swathed in silver light, Their bodies are made luminous with splendors!
Holy, holy, holy! They are the Priests of God, They are the Processional of the Great Mystery!... Their deep-toned voices are a singing hymn, Their deep-toned voices are chanting the anthem of God; In the House of Heaven they sing an eternal song!
[Illustration: The Priests (Estes Park)
_The Procession of the Mountains is eternal, The great Mountains, each in his station abiding._ ]
PALINGENESIS
The lodge of Olelbis is very great and beautiful: Its pillars are the trunks of acorned oak-trees, upward growing; Its walls are interwoven with all the flowers of the world; In its midst there is a limpid pool Formed from the dews that glide downward from the laden petals---- Who drinks thereof, he lives forever.
In the days of the First People Fire was under the wing of the Swift; Thence Flint stole it, And the World was enkindled.
From his lodge in the sky Olelbis gazed downwards: The hills were smoking, The tops of the trees were blazing, The rocks were consumed as burning brush And the earth, bursting, flew upward in furious sparks which clung to the vault of the sky,---- The stars that glow by night are the embers of them.
Then Olelbis saw that the flames assailed the foundations of the heavens; The pillars of his lodge were shaking, The pillars of his lodge were burning,---- And his voice sounded around the World.
The Woman of the Waters was the first to hear: Her hair is like the kelp which the waves spew forth in their tumult; Her hands are like the fins of huge whales; Her feet are like the tail-flukes of huge whales; When she thrashes amid the sea the foam of the billows washes the sky-floor.
The Man of the North Wind was the first to hear: His wings are like the wings of enormous bats, They are blacker than night is black; When he blows furiously his cheek feathers move up and down, Sweeping earth and sky.
Against mountains of fire arose mountains of water; They fought with one another, They consumed one another; Red smoke hung over all things; Black smoke hung over all things.
Then Olelbis, gazing downward, beheld only ashes; There was no earth where the earth had been; There was no sea where the sea had been; There was nought save the dusk of floating ashes.
From the walls of the lodge of Olelbis The flowers descended like a many-colored snow; From the Pool of Life The round drops descended in a shining mist: Life was renewed where Life had been.
[Illustration: Palingenesis
_Then Olelbis saw that the flames assailed the foundations of the heavens; The pillars of his lodge were burning,-- And his voice sounded around the world._ ]
ESCHATOLOGY
The Sick-Man-of-the-North, He lies upon a litter; There are four stars which are four Doctors who carry him; There are three stars which are three Doctors who follow singing; About the Star-which-Never-Moves they circle---- So it has been, So it shall be, while the World lasts.
The Spirit-Star-of-the-South, He was not so high in the heavens when Life was created; His station was appointed him, It was lower in the heavens: He steals upward, He steals northward, as the World grows older.
The White-Pathway-of-Souls, It is like a bow laid athwart the night; The souls of the departed journey southward over it....
When the Doctors cease their singing, When the Spirit Star has reached a certain height, stealthily, Will not He-of-the-North journey as they have journeyed---- Southward?
Then the Star-that-Never-Moves will be seen no more; Then men will be seen no more.
THE ORIGIN OF DEATH
In the Day ere Man came, In the Morning of Life, They came together, The Father, the Mother, Debating.
“Forever they shall live, “Our Children, “When they are born Men “Forever they shall live,” Said the Father, Said the Mother.
But the little Bird cried, Ah, the little Bird cried: “How shall I nest me---- “How shall I nest me “In their warm graves “If men live forever?”
[Illustration: To a Child’s Moccasin
_Death, you have taught me to mother! Death, I will mother well! With red, red blood I will nourish! I will lull with the rifle’s spell!_ ]