Two Poems
Waawoono
Waawoono ma’iingan waamdaan oshkimaadi-giizis
Waawaasiso epiichi nagamod dibikong
Ishpaa’ii-Aazhogan-Waaskone zhamaaganish awe
Oaayiijiganawenimaan oshkimanidoog
bi dagooshinwaad biinjiboonaaganing
name anaaming
nanagodinong
ma’iingan nd’aaw, waawoonoyin nagamoyaan
nanagodingon
name nd’aaw, anaamyaan andobaaniyaan
Howling
He howls, the wolf, at the new moon
He sparkles while he sings in the night.
He’s an Overpass Light Brigade soldier
He carefully watches the new spirits
Arriving in the belly of the sturgeon below
Sometimes
I am a wolf howling, singing
Sometimes
I am a sturgeon praying, on the way to war
And here is another about trying to help children learn to avoid war:
Mi Miigwanag Miizhangidwaa
Mii miigwanag miizhangidwaa,
miisanajiiwayaanag biisikawaad
epiichii minojiwanimiiwaad.
Miidash ozaawigwanewag
miisaakodeg wiisaakodeng
aaptaa mitigomizh, aaptaa anaaganashkoon.
Mizaatiogomitigomizh
nooka-makadewaa anaaganashk
adaawejig enji-nawanj-adaawewin.
Nijanisinaanig zazegaangwaa
ashamangwaa oshki-enendamowinan
gaawiin waa miigaadimsiiwaad.
We gave them plumes and quills,
and downy tips to wear
while dancing like smooth currents.
They became golden-feathered
half-breeds in the burnt forest
part oak, part fern.
Solid branches
soft bracken
traders in an evolved economy.
Our decorated children
nourished on new ideas
possibly able to evade old wars.
Maaganiit Noodin
