“Anarchism is not a romantic fable but the hardheaded realization, based on five thousand years of experience, that we cannot entrust the management of our lives to kings, priests, politicians, generals, and county commissioners.” – Edward Abbey
On The Poetry Post…
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? ‘Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer ‘thou’ and ‘I’ exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.
– Farid al-Din Attar –
Friday Evening: It has been a week of watching changes, and reentry for Mary & myself. We will have some pics soon of our time away.
I have been wrestling with illustrations, finding a bit of work, and the rest of the daily parade.
There is a theme that runs through this entry, and the next one (I think). We were out of the city for a few days, and we spent time by what has been identified as a possible ancient site of the Maidu people. I spent time thinking on in-habitation, caretaking of the earth, and how the ancients used what they had to encourage the earth to be fertile. I thought what it means to be indigenous, which is something I have contemplated most of my adult life. Why do the Sami people venerate the earth more than their Nordic neighbors? How is it that poets find that the earth they live on influence their works? How do people forget their ancient ties and commitments to the land that nurtures them? All mysteries. I sat in the sun, pondering all of these questions and more.
You can read my writings, and eventually you’ll see my mentioning of being a child of the arboreal north. This is true. It is also true I am at home best near the ocean. Funny enough, Portland, city and all is a good fit. In my fantasy, it would be where Astoria on the coast is, but I can deal with it not being so. My point is, I am at home here. The only equivalent would be back in Scotland, but I don’t think that is in the cards. The Willamette Valley is about as far south as I can now comfortably live. It is raining tonight, and we are snug. The trees are shedding leaves, and the early days of the winter are slipping in.
Saturday Noon: Storming like crazy. It is raining sideways, down-ways, up-ways. It really, really is coming down.
So, in this entry you will find some English Country music by “Show Of Hands”. I like their feel, and their message. It goes right along with my thoughts on inhabitation of where you are… We start off with quotes from Edward Abbey, the environmental writer/philosopher in commemoration of his death 20 years ago. We next dive into the Maidu thread, with a Coyote tale. It has a certain flavor that I really like. Our poetry entry is from Rainer Marie Rilke, on Autumn and related subjects. The art works today is by John Everett Millais, one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite art movement. His landscapes have often been ignored, but their subject matter has always impressed my sensibilities.
I hope this finds you well!
On The Menu:
Show Of Hands – Roots
Edward Abbey Quotes
Maidu Tales… Coyote’s Adventures
Autumn Poetry… Rainer Marie Rilke
Show Of Hands – Country Life
Coda…. Farid al-Din Attar
Artist: John Everett Millais
Show Of Hands – Roots
It has been 20 years since Edward Abbey died. I was introduced to his works by friends in the Wiccan & EarthFirst! communities. His works moved me, between his writing and Gary Snyder’s I reconnected with being in the US after Britain. I was stunned to realize how fast the time had gone since his passing… -Gwyllm
Edward Abbey Quotes
“The mind is everything,” wrote Proust. No doubt true, when you’re dead from the neck down.
Anywhere, anytime, I’d sacrifice the finest nuance for a laugh, the most elegant trope for a smile.
Appearance VERSUS reality? Appearance is reality, God damn it!
The gurus come from the sickliest nation on earth to tell us how to live. And we pay them for it.
To the intelligent man or woman, life appears infinitely mysterious. But the stupid have an answer for every question.
If my decomposing carcass helps nourish the roots of a juniper tree or the wings of a vulture – that is immortality enough for me. And as much as anyone deserves.
The tragedy of modern war is not so much that the young men die but that they die fighting each other – instead of their real enemies back home in the capitals.
Maidu Tales… Coyote’s Adventures
Coyote-Man was married. He had two wives, they say, and his mother-in-law lived with him also. Coyote went off hunting, and, returning from his hunt, he remained at home. After a while he spoke. “The pis-ant orphans are going to hunt deer, they say.” “Yes,” said his mother-in-law. “They asked me to go too,” said he. “If you want to go there also, we will go in the morning.” Then they slept.
In the morning (Coyote) said, “Well! They may have gone. Let us go!” Then that old woman fixed up her things, and they went. They went off, kept going until they came to a river. “You will have to wade across,” said he. “They call this the slippery river.” She stepped in. “Lift your skirt up high,” said he. He went across behind her. He touched her anus with his penis, pushing it in a little between her legs. “Hn, hn! The fish are touching us,” she said. “It is that way in the slippery river.” And doing thus as they crossed, when they had almost reached the other side, he stopped poking her.
They came out of the water; and when they had gotten out, they went on, kept travelling until they camped. “You stay here,” he said. “I am going to see where the pis-ant orphans are camped.” Then he went off. Having gone a little ways, he said, “Let rain come in this place, let rain come to-night!” Then he went off hunting, and, as he went along, he saw something that the mountain-lion had killed. So, cutting off a piece, he carried it with him, and returned before dark. Meanwhile it grew cloudy. “I think it is going to rain,” he said; so they fixed up a bark shelter. On one side he fixed it nicely, but his own sleeping-place he made poorly. Then they roasted some venison, and ate supper. The meat stunk a little, indeed. “What the pis-ant orphans kill always stinks,” said (Coyote). “They eat anything that way.”
Just as they went to sleep, it began to rain. Then they went to sleep. After sleeping a little while, he got very wet. So he woke up, and, having waked up, he said, “I am very wet. I’ll sleep over here,” he said, crawling across towards his mother-in-law’s feet. “If I sleep here, I might touch you,” he said; so he set up a piece of bark, on edge between them.
Then he went to sleep, and the woman went to sleep. He got up, and lay upon the woman, and had connection with her all night, until, when it was nearly daylight, he went off. Then the woman awoke. She bore a child. By and by, after she had washed it, she went away, carrying it. She kept travelling; and when she had reached the river, she waded across. She went on, kept going until she arrived at home.
Standing at the smoke-hole, she spoke. “Is Coyote here?” she said. Then Coyote said (to his wives), “Tell her no.” Then one of them replied, “Yes, he is here.” Then (the mother-in-law) said, “Coyote! Here is your child. Take it!” Then (Coyote) jumped out and ran away. She threw his child at him as he went. He ran away. She, having crawled in, stayed there. “‘Bad Coyote! He made his mother-in-law bear a child.’ That is what mortal men will say of me,” said (Coyote).
Then he went away. He kept travelling, came toward this country here. He sat down, sitting on a log, below a place where there was a house. Some one spoke. “You sitting on that log, look like a doctor. Come I you must doctor some one for me,” said (a woman). Then (Coyote) said, “I guess she is calling me. Why don’t I get up and hop along this log?” So he stood up and hopped along the log.
“That’s the one! You who are hopping along that log, you look like a doctor. I am calling you,” she said. “Yes, I guess she is speaking to me,” (he said), and jumped off. “You that are jumping, I am calling you,” she said. “Yes, she has been calling me,” (Coyote) said. So he walked up there.
Going up there, he arrived and sat down. Then (the woman) spoke: “There is some one ill. I called you to doctor them.”–”Whatever it may be like, (I can do it),” he said. “I have come thus far, going about doctoring people nicely. I am coming back from going about among the Mussel-eaters (Modocs); and I have got this far, halfway to my house,” he said. “There is nothing that I have been doctoring that I cannot cure” (?) he said. Then, crawling over, and having sat down beside (the woman who was ill), he sang. He kept singing. “‘I said that when told that way, I did not wish to conquer he said to me,’ 1 said Coyote. “That spirit told me, ‘I will not speak in this kind of a place. I am a spirit. Shut up the house; and when it is shut tight, I will speak.’ So if you crawl out, and stay outside by the door, to me alone the spirit will speak, he told me,” said he.
So the old woman crawled out, and shut the door, and remained by the door outside. Then (Coyote) sang. He made a great deal of noise. “Now he is doctoring,” (the old woman) said. (Those outside) heard the patient groaning. “May he be dead! Why did I bring him here to doctor?” said (the old woman). Then she peeked through a hole. (Coyote) was cohabiting with the girl, making her groan. The old woman, having picked up a large stick, jumped in. just as she was going to strike, (Coyote), breaking off his penis, jumped out through the smoke-hole and ran away. He kept going until he reached the place where Badger lived, and there he staid.
The woman was very ill, and (the old woman) came to Badger to get him to doctor. On arriving, she said, “I hired Coyote as a doctor; and when he was about to begin, he sent me out, and I remained outside by the door while he was singing; and while he sang, the girl groaned, and, peeping in, I found he was cohabiting with her. Then, intending to strike him, I jumped in; and he, jumping out, broke off his penis. With that in addition to her illness, she will die. So I ask you to come and doctor her.”
Then Coyote spoke. “Coyote-Man did that way a long time ago to me myself,” (?) he said. “When some one hires you to doctor, go,” said he. “You yourself shall doctor, working over the sick person (?). 1 So do the best you can; and when the spirit-man talks with you, he will be strong. I will go with you,” he said. Then she went. And he (Badger 2) went, after having painted his forehead in stripes. He kept travelling until he arrived. Then he sang, kept singing, and after a while he said, “What will you do with it, with what I suck out as the cause of pain? What will you do with it?”
The (old woman) said, “I will cover it up with ashes in the fire.” Then Coyote said, “Formerly when they burned up sickness in the fire, in burning, it burned along everywhere, as it were,” said he; “but when it was put into water, it was all right.” Then the old woman said, “I’ll cover it up in the fire.” Then the Badger-Man, after he had sung, cured the girl, and passed the Coyote’s penis to the (old woman). She opened the fire, to cover it up in the ashes. Meanwhile, not letting the woman see him, Coyote blew gently. “Let a layer of ice come up from under the ground!” he said. The old woman, when she had finished opening a place in the fire, put (the thing that he had sucked out) in. As she was putting it in, as she was putting it down toward the fire, (Coyote) seized it, and, snatching it away, ran off with it, ran away.
“I was right thinking that you were not a different person, after all; I did not recognize you,” said (the woman). Then that doctor, after he had staid quiet for a while, went off; and they say that he is still striped with paint, as he was striped for doctoring.
So Coyote went away. He kept going until he saw a place where many women were living. Then, having returned on his tracks a short distance, he said, “Let any kind of a worn-out pack-basket come, a platter-basket also, and a worn-out cradle frame also!” Then he saw there all that he had wished for. Then he picked a large root, and pounded it, mashed it fine, prepared it carefully, and, when it was very finely ground, he made it into a representation of a woman’s genitals. Then attaching it to himself, he fixed it carefully, and finished making it. He made a woman’s apron, worn out, fall of tears, so that when it was put on, it should not wholly cover him up.
And thus he went on. Picking up his penis, he washed and fixed it up as a baby, and placed it in the cradle-frame. Then, making a cane from a piece of wood, he went on, walking bent far over, like a very old woman.
Meanwhile the women remained there, and just about dark he arrived. Then they said, “Well, this is indeed an old woman to be going about thus!” and they played with the child. It does not look just like a child,” (said they.) “I am very weak,” (said Coyote.) “In picking it up, it slipped out of my hands, and fell, striking on its head. That is why it looks all swollen. Its father is dead. It makes me feel very sad to speak of its father,” said she. Then the child said, “Lbl-lbl-lbl!”–”It says that always, and makes me feel sad,” said (Coyote).
He spoke just like a woman. “Because it cries a great deal, it makes me feel sad, for I was weak and let it fall,” said he. Then they saw his genitals through the holes, although they were covered. All the women saw them. Two of the youngest women said, “It does not look just like a child;” but the others said, “No, it is indeed a child. This swelling is due to its fall.”–”That is the head of a penis” said (the two women,) “that swelled when it fell.”
But the other women all believed, and only the two were careful. “Look at her! She is an old woman; can’t you see her genitals are of that kind?” the others said. Then these two said, “Very well!” So they gave her some supper; and when it grew dark, they were afraid (?). So they said, “You had better sleep right here. You might be cold.” So she went to sleep, lying in the middle between two of them.
Meanwhile all the rest slept close by, in one place. But the two who had doubted went off to sleep elsewhere; they were careful. Then in the night (Coyote) untied his sleeping-powder, and, scattering it about, made all sleep soundly. Then, having thrown away his disguise, he cohabited with the women. He kept working until it was nearly dawn, and then went off. Then those women all bore children in the morning; and the children were crying, and made a great noise. Meanwhile he went off.
He kept going, travelling along beside a river, until he saw some women. They were there bathing. He watched these water-bug women. He watched them as they crawled out of the water to the bank, and kept jumping in. “Whee! Her anus!” said he. “That’s the one. Whee! There’s another one!” He kept talking, and then jumped to seize the very biggest one. Just as she was jumping, just starting to jump, jumping right behind her, he seized her. By and by, after working for some time, he crawled out, and went away.
He kept going; and when he was some ways from the middle of the world, his penis pained him. He walked along scratching. Then he cut off the end of it, and, having thrown it away, went on. A little ways farther on, it pained very badly. Again, having cut it off and thrown it away, he went on. And having gone a little farther, it pained him again: so he cut another piece off. And still again he cut it off, even at the very base. Then as he went along, just as he started to go, he died.
He lay there dead. As he lay there, the Crow brothers flew up, and pecked out an eye. They kept pecking it out, then began on the other eye. When they had pulled just a little, (Coyote) came to consciousness again. He stood up. “I have been having a council with the Alturas people, and was sleepy. Do not say anything about it, or you will die.” (?) Then, picking up a stick, he threw it at them. Then, having risen, he went off.
As he went along, Humming-Bird Man, after hovering about close to the top of a tree, came darting down, and, when almost to the ground, swooped upwards again, singing “Piuno!” all the time. (Coyote) stood there and watched him. “Yes, you have learned how to do that very well, my cousin. I think that if I learned that, the women everywhere would love me. Why don’t you teach me how you learned to do it so well?” said he. Then (the Humming-Bird) said, “All right! If you wish to learn, I will show you. I was not afraid, and so I learned. When I began to learn, I climbed up a tree, kept climbing until I reached the top, and having reached the top of the tree, standing on a large limb, I used to jump off head-first,” said he.
“All right!” said Coyote, “I will do that. Thus I shall be loved in very many countries; for, knowing many pretty things to do, women will talk about me,” said he. Then he climbed up, kept climbing, and when he had climbed to the top, he stood up. Then he jumped down. Darting down toward the earth crying “Pi!” just as he neared the ground he raised his head. just then he struck on his head. So he died.
As he lay there, (the Humming-Bird) went away. By and by the Crow brothers flew up, and pecked out his eye. They kept pecking; and as they were about to pull it out, when they pulled gently, he awoke. He stood up. “I have been talking with chiefs, and fell asleep. Do not say anything about it, or you will die.” (?)
Then, having departed, he went off, and kept going until he reached the place where a man lived with his wives. Then he stopped there. By and by Coyote said, “Where can one marry such fine-looking women?” said he. “Where do such fine-looking women live?”–”It was a very old woman that I married. After staying with me for a little while, she turned into a fine-looking one,” said (the other). “Is that so!” said (Coyote). “Do you know where such sort of old women live? Tell me,” said Coyote.
Then the other said, “The camps are over there, there are many camps. By going, thither you will reach them,” said he. “There is a house opposite the last one; when you get there, there will be an ugly old woman living there. Marry her; and then, if she is too weak to walk, carry her, and bring her back. I did that way with my wife here. After getting back, and staying a few days, one morning, she woke up very fine-looking. That is the way it will be. Thus you will marry a good woman,” said he.
“Very well!” said Coyote, and the next morning he went off. He kept going until he arrived there. Reaching the last house, he crossed over and got to the house opposite. He went in, and there was an ugly old woman sitting there. Having gone in, he sat down, and remained there. Meanwhile night came on, and, crawling across, he slept with that old woman.
In the morning, when they had risen, they came back; and after they had come a little ways, she became tired. So carrying her, he returned, and kept coming back until he reached the place he had set out from. It came night; and after sleeping, he staid there in the morning. Meanwhile the other man went hunting, and at evening he came back bringing a bear.
Then Coyote said, “I wonder how you killed him. You had better tell me, I also went hunting. Where did you kill him?” Then the other said, “All right! I went around behind this mountain, a large trail runs there, and I sat down close by it.”–”Good!” said Coyote, “I will do that way.” The other man said, “I carried a big, heavy stick. Hitting the bear with that, I killed him. From where I stood, close to the trail, I struck him.”–”All right!” said Coyote, “I will do the same.”
Then the next morning he went hunting. He kept travelling, and finally reached the place that had been pointed out to him. A large bear-trail led along there,–a trail up which they went to feed. When he reached it, he stood there, kept standing close beside the trail. Then the bears came, kept coming, walking fast. Meanwhile Coyote said, “I am not looking for you, I am looking for another, a big one.” They kept going along, until, in the middle of the lot, there came a large one. As he was walking by, (Coyote) struck him. When he struck, the stick bounced back, for he did not strike him just on the head. Then from all sides they seized Coyote, and threw him down and killed him.
Coyote did not return in the morning. Then the other man crossed over (to Coyote’s house), and killed the old woman; and she was that man’s grandmother, they say. And having killed her, and carried her to the spring, he threw her in. And (Coyote) still had not returned when it grew dark. In the morning, the woman, having come to life in the spring, went back to the camp, and staid there.
Meanwhile Coyote was dead; and to the place where he lay the Crow brothers came, and pecked his eyes. They kept pecking, and were just about to pull out one eye, when Coyote sat up. “Really, I have been talking with chiefs. Do not say anything about it, or you will die.” Then, when he was thoroughly awake, he went on.
After he had gone a little ways, he heard two girls singing. It sounded very pretty. So, standing up, he listened. It seemed to come from close by, behind a point like this. “Well, I guess they see me,” thought he; for it sounded as if they sang in time to his step. “They must have seen me,” he said. Then he walked and capered about, dancing to the song of the girls, stepping just as they sang. It sounded as if they were watching; it seemed as if it came from close by.
He went across in the direction of the sound, climbed a ridge, and, when he looked across, it sounded as if it came from across on the other side, from the point of the ridge. So, starting off, he ran across, and, getting to the top of the ridge, looked across, when it seemed to come from the opposite side. “Well, I guess you love me, are fond of me, for you are singing in time to my steps; but I will get over there to where you are. Then you will see me,” he said.
Meanwhile his wife remained here, at their house. So he went off, never thinking of his wife. So starting off, he ran on, kept running until he was tired; and when it was night, he stopped and camped. Here the two women’s singing sounded as if it came from far away. And in the morning he could not hear it. And as he went about everywhere, he met Cottontail-Rabbit, and came to the place where he made his camp. Cottontail told him, “There are many women who dance, but I never go to see them.”–”Well,” said (Coyote) “are we going together to the dance?”–”Yes! We will dance when it grows dark,” said Cottontail. Then it was night, and they heard singing and dancing all about. So they went off, kept going until (Coyote) said, “Stop a minute! I’ll tell you something. You had better stay behind here.”–”All right!” said Cottontail. “You had better stay here. Women are very careful and suspicious of me,” said (Coyote). “If I have this (his penis) on, they are afraid of me. When the women think I am all right, I will whistle. When you hear that., bring it along,” So Cottontail staid there.
Meanwhile (Coyote) went off, and arrived there. Then he heard the women dancing and shouting. He got there. Very pretty women were dancing. He took a partner there, and two very pretty women fell in love with him. They followed him off. They followed him as he walked about; and when they got near the place where Cottontail was staying, they sat down.
Then Coyote whistled, but there was no reply. He whistled again. “What are you doing?” said the girls. “Oh, that is nothing! I am only playing,” he said. “I feel very happy to be going about with two women, I feel very good,” said he. Then they laughed, putting their legs over him, playing with him. “Why don’t you wait? Keep quiet, ye two!” said he.
Then, having run off up the hill, he came to that place (where Cottontail was). He whistled. He did not hear anything. He got very angry. Going about hunting for him, he did not see him. Then, returning, he reached the place where the girls were.
“What are you doing, going about calling (for some one)?” they said. “No, I was not doing anything,” said he. Then they lay down beside each other, he being in the middle, between the two; and they played with him, and straddled over him. Again he went off to hunt (for Cottontail), went about hunting in the same place he had gone before. Again he couldn’t see him, and was very angry.
Now, while (Coyote) walked down, having made (Cottontail) stay (where he was), two Star-Women came along, and he (Cottontail) followed them. After a while Cottontail had connection with them, with the oldest woman, making her groan, almost making her cry. Then the younger said, “How can such a man almost make you cry? Such a little man, I guess, cannot make me do that. Such a tiny little fellow can’t make me cry!” said the youngest woman. He cohabited with that very one, he almost made her cry. He made all (both) groan loudly.
Meanwhile Coyote-Man kept sleeping with the two women until it was light. Then in the morning he went on; and when he had reached that house, Cottontail was staying there. Having rushed in, he (Coyote) looked angry. “I have a good mind to kill you,” he said. “Why didn’t you stay where I told you?” he said. He was very angry. “Two women having come along, I followed them,” said Cottontail. “Then what did you do?” said (Coyote). “I cohabited some, with yours (i. e., your penis),” he said. “Oh!” said (Coyote). “I almost made the two girls cry,” said (Cottontail). Then “Oh!” said (Coyote), “it will make little women cry.” He felt as if he had cohabited much. Very quickly he got over his anger.
When (Cottontail) had handed it over, (Coyote) washed and cleaned it with water and put it away. “That is very good,” said he. “It is just right for big women.” Next day they did not dance, the dance was over. So, staying until it was night, he went off in the morning.
He kept travelling until he reached the place where the Ground-Squirrel women lived. They were sitting in a row on a log, and he passed along close by the log. He looked around as he went along. Now, the last one that sat there was very large, and fat. So he seized her; but as he seized her, she jumped aside, and he missed her. Meanwhile they rushed in the tiny door (of their house). Then (Coyote), reaching down through, seized one. Meanwhile the women all seized him. One went off to call Badger. And when they had told him, he came, and arriving there, seizing (Coyote) by the arm, he pulled off one arm.
Then (Badger) went off. He gave the arm to the women. Now, after a while Coyote went off. After he had gone about looking for a limb of a tree, he saw one which was, just right, and, having rubbed it with pitch, he stuck it on. Then when it grew evening, again, just as it became dark, he arrived (at the Ground-Squirrel’s house). But they did not recognize him; and when they had given him some supper, (the women) sang, while he ate his supper.
Now. he stopped eating. “How did you learn what you are singing?” said Coyote. “In what country, how, who has been wicked?” he said. “They say they are singing (about) some other people’s hand. In what country have the people been bad?” Coyote said. Then Badger-Man spoke. “It is not like that,” he said. “They say they are singing about Coyote’s hand,” he said. (Coyote) said, “No, that is not it! They say they are singing about a stranger’s hand!”–”Very well!” said Badger, “I am going to dance.”–”Let us dance!” said (Coyote). “Go ahead!” said (Coyote), so they both went.
Travelling along, they arrived there. And they (the women) were dancing, they danced throwing the arm across from one to the other. And when Coyote and Badger arrived there, the women did not recognize him. They did not know Coyote-Man, since he had two arms. They all danced together. And while they were dancing, after a while he (Coyote) caught the arm. He started to run off with it. He ran away with it, and, continuing to run away with it, he camped for the night at a distance. Meanwhile those women stopped dancing when he got back what they had.
That morning he went on, kept going until he came to a house. He married the one (woman who lived there); then he staid there. He lived there, hunting mice. He had a daughter, and lived there married; lived there, hunting only mice. Now his daughter had grown large. He kept living there, doing the same thing, and now had a son. He never went hunting for deer, they say; lived there, hunting only mice. Meanwhile his children now had grown large, his daughter had grown of age. She grew to be a very fine-looking girl, Coyote’s daughter did. Then Coyote thought. “I wonder how I may marry this girl!” he said. “But what (about) this! I am sick, so I’ll lie down all the time, saying I am going to die. When I have done that, they will believe me,” he said.
Then he went off hunting; and by and by, hunting along, he came back at night. Then, after he had lain down, by and by he spoke. “I am very sick, I almost was unable to come back,” said he. Then sleeping, he could hardly sleep (before) morning. He lay there sick. “Very sick I am,” said he. Meanwhile his wife went out to pick food with the daughter. “You and your two children will be able to keep alive picking all sorts of food,” said he. “I am sick, and shall recover. If I should not recover, ye must live here (?),” said he.
“Over there there lives a man who looks like me. When your daughter has married him, ye must live there. Ye must live without thinking about me, without crying much. When your daughter is married, if he (her husband) gives you anything, you must live there and eat with him … if I die,” said he. Then he lay there sick and groaning.
Meanwhile the women went off to pick food. “Some time the house may burn down; and then ye, having seen me, must go away,” said he, So he went off; and by and by, having brought in and piled together some deer-bones, he set fire to his house. And when he had set fire to it, the house burned. When it was burned down, they, returning, saw that there were bones, all burnt up, lying where he had lain. Then they, after crying, went off in the morning to the place where he had instructed them to go. When they went off, they came to a house, and they arrived there. Now, he (Coyote) was living there. He had rubbed his hair all over with pitch, so that they could not see it (?). And when they got there, that man (Coyote) married the girl. So he lived with his mother-in-law and brother-in-law. And the two, Coyote and his brother-in-law, went hunting mice.
Now, that which he had rubbed on, came off in his armpit when he was digging. And his brother-in-law saw it. They came back from the hunt just before dark. And when they had arrived, they slept; and in the morning Coyote went hunting, (but) the brother-in-law remained at home. And when Coyote had gone away, he spoke. “Look here, my mother! He looks very much like my father. I have recognized him. He moves just like him. When he was digging, he looked around just like him; and that which he had rubbed on, came off under the armpit. I saw that,” said he. “Surely he is my father!”
Then the two women, having fixed things up, went off, went away angry. And after a while (Coyote) got back, (and there was) no one there. So, after he had looked and peered everywhere about, by and by he went off. “I was wicked,” then said Coyote. “Mortal men, in telling of the olden time, (will say) that Coyote married his daughter long ago.” So, along the edge of the valley he went on.
So he arrived in the north (?). And there he married the Frog-Old-Woman. And as they were living there, a dance was announced. They sent (messengers) to tell him. “They say there is a dance,” said they. “They say there is to be a singing-contest. So they sent to all countries for men who were good singers,” they said. “They say it is to be a great dance.” Then (Coyote) said “All right! I am going to sing.” Six days had passed, when his wife fell ill, two days before (the time set). She lay there groaning. Then he said, “What are you going to do, shall you watch the dance, or are you too weak?”–”Yes,” said she, “you go alone. I will lie here, and not go about; I am weak.” So he threw in some wood, and, after piling it up, went away. Going along, when he got there, the singers were singing. Crane was singing, Bluejay was singing, Wekwek was singing, Antelope was singing, Papam (a root) was singing. And as he got there, Tadpole was singing, Shitepoke was singing, all people were singing.
And Coyote, when he got there, sang,–a winning song, they say. Many women were dancing, Wolf-Man sang, very pretty-looking women danced. There was one woman there who was, of all, the most beautiful. Coyote danced with her. And when they had danced around a few times, he lifted her up and carried her off. And having carried her off down to a dark place, and laid her down, he lay upon her. “Do you think I am the only pretty one among all the women?” (?) said she. (Now) that was his wife; and being angry, he whipped her; and, having beaten her to death, he went up (back again).
And coming up, as he got there, a most beautiful woman, who looked different, was dancing. Then he went off to look at his wife. “I’ll go and see,” (he said). And running away, when he had run thither, he approached slowly, and then peeped in softly. She still lay there, groaning faintly; so, having walked back slowly, he went. And so returning, after he had stood up, he danced with that woman.
And dancing around, after they had danced around a few times, he picked her up, and carried her off on his shoulder, carried her on his back to a dark place. Then he lay between her legs. Meanwhile she said, “. . . .” 1 It was the old woman, his wife. Then kicking her, and striking her, having knocked her over, he killed her, and, coming up, he got back (to the dance). She, having made, (herself) pretty, danced again,–the same one, they say, the Frog-Old-Woman. She knew Coyote very well, they say, not wishing to see (him) bothering many pretty women. So she conquered Coyote.
The people (?) kept on doing this (singing) all the time until nearly dawn, (when) they said that Tadpole-Man was a bad singer (?). Then Tadpole-Man, getting angry, stole all the songs. Then they, not being able to sing, being unable to remember the songs, ceased.
And there Coyote did himself evil (?). And mortal men, telling of the olden time, (shall say) “Those people, that kind of people, were conquering in song in the olden time,” that way they said (?). And so, “There shall be singing at dances,” they said,–”these olden-time songs,” they say. “And (if) one man knows it (a song), they (will) ask him to sing, (if) they wish to hear it”(?), they said. “And then, learning it, mortal men, women and men also, shall sing it,” they said. “These songs mortal men shall sing in all countries,” they said.
And there Coyote, overcoming himself, went away. Having returned, he said, “After I had staid at my chief’s, smoking tobacco, I did not see the dance, and it came morning.” Meanwhile the Bluejay-Man, returning from the dance, said he wished to put on feather ornaments. Then his grandmother put on him her pubic hair as feathers. And so he went, and at evening he sang. And when he sang, the women shouted at him, “The man who wears his grandmother’s pubic hair for feathers, Bluejay-Man!” they said. And then, being ashamed, he departed, after remaining a while. And in the morning they all went home, all were gone. And then the world was quiet.
Autumn Poetry… Rainer Marie Rilke
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.”
And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all other stars in the loneliness.
We’re all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one. It’s in them all.
And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.
Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house now will not build one
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.
Buddha In Glory
Center of all centers, core of cores,
almond self-enclosed, and growing sweet–
all this universe, to the furthest stars
all beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.
Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,
a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.
Rainer Marie Rilke
Show Of Hands – Country Life
All Pervading Consciousness
And as His Essence all the world pervades
Naught in Creation is, save this alone.
Upon the waters has He fixed His Throne,
This earth suspended in the starry space,
Yet what are seas and what is air? For all
Is God, and but a talisman are heaven and earth
To veil Divinity. For heaven and earth,
Did He not permeate them, were but names;
Know then, that both this visible world and that
Which unseen is, alike are God Himself,
Naught is, save God: and all that is, is God.
And yet, alas! by how few is He seen,
Blind are men’s eyes, though all resplendent shines
The world by Deity’s own light illumined,
0 Thou whom man perceiveth not, although
To him Thou deignest to make known Thyself;
Thou all Creation art, all we behold, but Thou,
The soul within the body lies concealed,
And Thou dost hide Thyself within the soul,
0 soul in soul! Myst’ry in myst’ry hid!
Before all wert Thou, and are more than all!
– Farid al-Din Attar –