But Yes.
Swampy Cree narrative poem
translated by Howard Norman
I stay awake.
I am the poorest one.
I cook bark.
I have bad luck in hunting.
A duck caught my arrow
and used it
for her nest.
I am the poorest one.
I sit in mud and weep.
I have bad luck in hunting.
A goose caught my arrow
and broke it
in two.
I am old, old.
Don’t bring me pity,
but food
yes.