Hear the voice of the fire, hear the voice of the water,
Listen in the wind to the sighing of the bush:
This is the ancestors breathing.
Those who are dead are never gone;
The dead are not down in the earth:
They are in the trembling of the trees,
In the groaning of the woods,
In the water that runs, in the water that sleeps,
They are in the hut, they are in the crowd.
Those who are dead are not ever gone;
They are in the woman's breast, they are in the wailing of a child,
They are in the burning log and in the moaning rock.
They are in the weeping grasses, in the forest and the home.
Listen to things more often than beings.
Hear the voice of fire, hear the voice of water.
Listen in the wind to the sighing of the bush.
This is the ancestors breathing.
(Traditional from Senegal, translator unknown)
3 comments:
This reminded me immediately of a song made popular by Sweet Honey in the Rock...here are the "Breath" song lyrics.
http://www.ymbarnwell.com/lyrics.php
Yes indeed, Barb, there is a song based on this traditional Senegalese poem, and Sweet Honey in the Rock do it beautifully
always i wish to listen more.
when i am wise
i hear the ancestors.
earth day felt like a gentle
joining with all others
of our mother.
i appreciate this prose very much.
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