Let me show you what I love
The places where my ancestors walked
Those hills and valleys, dotted with medicine,
And all the jagged mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks
And watch the storms pass,
By rushing rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There I will translate their songs
I speak in ancient syllables,
My words shine through the sun,
Embroider’d with spider’s thread;
Dyed with huckleberries,
Through our ears our souls are fed;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.
Thy buckskin pouch for thy dried meat
As precious as the creator does eat,
Shall on Mother Earth, a blanket of wood violets will be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
Our people shall dance and sing
For thy delight until the sun rises each morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then come with me and be my love.