WEBVTT

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--own trembling shadow.

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The cold slowly seeps
into Navajo soil,

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the north wind
howls with coyotes,

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and the encroaching night
creeps into memories of days

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before Arizona.

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Tears run down
crews of aged skin

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glistening in the dying light.

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Dusk slides away
with fading memories

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that only sounds of the
waving stick could hold on to.

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My grandmother sobs, "He used
to bring in the wood for me."

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Holding a feather
with your song,

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you dance on a smoke of
dream leaping through dust.

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My grandfather will
remember you on this night.

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And your memory comes alive with
the rhythm of the weaving stick

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dancing patterns
across the loom.

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I watch snow drift
down the smoke hole,

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creating a trail of steam
along the rusty road

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of corrugated metal.

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And here, snowflakes
hum on the [? health ?]

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cut barrel wood stove in tune
with my grandmother's singing.

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The next one is called
"In the Cornfield."

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To the east, to the south,
to the west, to the north,

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to the center of the Earth,
to the center of the sky,

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to the center where
I am, I am the son

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of [? White Shell ?] Woman.

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Where the Earth is, where the
water is, bursts of rain clouds

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rise.

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Suddenly, three persons
come upon an old man

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hoeing with a digging
stick in the middle

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of the white cornfield.

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Quickly he asks, "Who are you?"

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Promptly one of the three
persons answers, "I am me,

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who else?"

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The old man, slowly but
surely lifts his straw hat,

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wipes the sweat off his forehead
on the back of his left hand

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and he looks at
the young Bilagaana

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man with his Bilagaana wife
behind him, swollen with child.

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The old man's answer
comes bursting forth

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through the bulging stomach.

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And the woman feels
with each kick

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the stretching of her pain.

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"You say you are you, but
I say you are not here yet.

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Although you stand
before me, I only

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see your father, your
mother, your grandmother,

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your grandfather."

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The sun catches the
Navajo grin in action.

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"See that stomach," the old
man teases, "that one is mine."

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"I don't translate that."

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And he continues, "You are still
there, there in the stomach.

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I won't see you
for a long time."

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He looks up at the
sun, and then his eyes

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scan his wide cornfield.

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"I am there, dancing
in the breeze."

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And out of the dancing stalks
rides a young Navajo man

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riding a buckskin, Wrangler
jeans polishing an already hard

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worn saddle, a silver
buckle flashing

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in the sun with its oval
turquoise imitating the sky.

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He strides off the horse and
says, "I brought lunch for you

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my father."

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And the old man bellows with
joy and delves into his food.

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Where the water is,
where the Earth is,

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the voice of the
corn beetle is heard

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singing at the edge of the sky.

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Striking moves flash
around her feet

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at the edge of the universe,
and huge clapping clouds

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rise on the horizon and
move towards an old Navajo

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man sitting under the shade
of a scanty crease with bush

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beside his white cornfield.

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"The Four Sacred Mountains."

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Our Navajo laws are represented
by the sacred mountains

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which surround us--

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Blanca Peak, Mount Taylor, San
Francisco Peaks, Hesperus Peak,

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Huerfano Mountain,
Gobernador Knob.

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They were placed here for us.

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We think of them as our home.

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Blanca Peak is adorned
with white shell.

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Mount Taylor is
adorned with turquoise.

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San Francisco Peaks are
adorned with abalone.

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Hesperus Peak is
adorned with jet.

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Huerfano mountain is
dressed in precious fabrics,

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while Gobernador Knob is
clothed in sacred jewels.

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This is how they sit for us.

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We adorn ourselves
just as they do

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with grace [? that's ?] of
turquoise and precious jewels

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about our necks.

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The Sacred Mountains have
always been where they are now.

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They have been like
that from the beginning.

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They were like that in
the worlds before this.

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They were brought up
from the underworld,

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and they were put back and
their respective places.

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When the mountains were
replaced, Earth was made,

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sky was made, dawn was made.

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Earth is our mother,
sky is our father.

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Sun gives us light,
Moon does the same.

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All of these were made
for us to live by.

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The town people say to us,
"Get up my grandchildren.

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Rise, do your work.

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Do all the things
that you must do."

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At noon, the sun tells
us, "It's time to eat."

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And in the evening, when the
sun sets, darkness says to us,

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"Rest, sleep my grandchildren."

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Then darkness blankets us,
and we rest until dawn.

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This is how they have regulated
our lives at the beginning.

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These mountains and
the land between them

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are the only things
that keep us strong.

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From them, and because
of them, we prosper.

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It is because of them that
we eat plants and good meat.

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We carry soil from
the Sacred Mountains

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in a prayer bundle that
we call [SPEAKING NAVAJO]..

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Because of this bundle, we
gain sheep, horses, and cattle,

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we gain possessions and things
of value, turquoise, necklaces,

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and bracelets.

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With this, we speak,
with this, we pray.

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This is where the prayers begin.

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Thank you.

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[APPLAUSE]

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