San Jacinto
Thick cloud, steam rising
Hissing stone on sweat lodge fire
Around me, buffalo roam
Sage in bundle, rub on skin
Outside, cold air
Stand, wait for rising sun
Red paint, eagle feathers
Coyote calling, it has begun
Something moving in
I taste it in my mouth and in my heart
It feels like dying, slow
Letting go of life
(Hyena wakan tanka)
(Hyena wakan tanka)
(Hyena wakan tanka)
(Hyena wakan tanka)
(Hyena wakan tanka)
(Hyena wakan tanka)
Medicine man lead me up through town
Indian ground, so far down
Cut up land, each house a pool
Kids wearing water wings, drink in cool
Follow dry river bed
Watch Scouts and Guides make pow-wow signs
Past Geronimo’s disco
Sitting Bull steakhouse, white men dream
A rattle in the old man’s sack, see
Look at mountain top, keep climbing up
Way above us the desert snow
White wind blow
I hold the line, the line of strength that pulls me through the fear
San Jacinto, I hold the line
San Jacinto, the poison bite and darkness take my sight
I hold the line
And the tears roll down my swollen cheek
Think I’m losing it, getting weaker
I hold the line, I hold the line
San Jacinto, yellow eagle flies down from the sun, from the sun
We will walk on the land
Peter Gabriel San Jancito
We will breathe of the air
We will drink from the stream
We will live, hold the line
Hold the line, hold the line
We will live, hold the line
Hold the line, hold the line
OpenEdition vous propose de citer ce billet de la manière suivante :
Xavier-Aurélien Racine (12 avril 2022). Image à dessein. Apollon en scaphandre intergalactique. Consulté le 7 octobre 2024 à l’adresse https://doi.org/10.58079/d3f8