مطلب زیر را یکی از دوستان خوبمان ارسال کردند و چون خیلی زیبا بود در وبلاگ گذاشتم که سایر دوستان نیز استفاده نمایند
با تشکر از سرکار خانم اکوان
زآه شرر بار ، اين قفس را ............ برشکن و زير و زبر کن
بلبل پر بسته ز کنجه قفس درآ ..... نغمه آزادی نوع بشر سرا
وز نفسی عرصه اين خاك توده را .. پر شرر كن !
ظلم ظالم ، جور صياد .................... آشيانم داده بر باد
اي خدا ، اي فلك ، اي طبيعت .......... شام تاريك ما را سحر كن
نوبهار است ، گل به بار است .......... ابر چشمم ، ژاله بار است
.................. اين قفس چون دلم تنگ و تار است ..................
شعله فكن در قفس اي آه آتشين ..... دست طبيعت گل عمر مرا مچين
جانب عاشق نگه اي تازه گل از اين ... بيشتر كن ، بيشتر كن ، بيشتر كن
مرغ بي دل ، شرح هجران ............... مختصر ، مختصر كن ، مختصر كن
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بند دوم:
عمر حقيقت به سر شد ................. عهد و وفا بي اثر شد
ناله عاشق ، ناز معشوق ............... هر دو دروغ و بي ثمر شد
راسته و مهر و محبت فسانه شد ..... قول و شرافت همگي از ميانه شد
از پي دزدي ، وطن و دين بهانه شد .. ديده تر كن!
جور مالك ، ظلم ارباب ................... زارع از غم گشته بي تاب
ساغر اغنيا پر مي ناب .................. جام ما پر ز خون جگر شد
اي دل تنگ ناله سر كن ................. از مساوات صرف نظر كن
ساقي گلچهره بده آب آتشين ........ پرده دلكش بزن اي يار دلنشين
........................ ناله بر آر از قفس اي بلبل حزين ........................
كز غم تو ، سينه من ...................پر شرر شد ، پر شرر شد
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بند دوم اين تصنيف ، سياسي بوده و فقط اجراهاي قديم آن موجود است.
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WE ARE THE PEOPLE…" ty bear warrior LOVE YOU
WE ARE THE PEOPLE…"
By Takatoka
"We are the People..." is the first poem we had ever written. It was
given by Spirit on the
our present and future. The poem ends with a prophesy - for all that
was will be again.
We are the People of the Longhouse
We are Spirits Dancing
Upon our Mother Earth.
Her heart the Drum is beating.
We are Her Children.
We are the Warriors.
We follow the Sacred Path.
We are the People of the Longhouse.
The Four Winds know us.
Trees, birds and animals teach us.
Sun and Moon share visions with us.
The Stone people and waters are we.
They all instruct our path to see.
We are the People of the Longhouse,
Keepers of the Sacred Manataka
The Great Gathering Place,
Place of Peace for all who make pilgrimage
To celebrate the Secrets of Grace.
We are the People of the Longhouse.
We are Arapaho, Caddo,
Seminole Winnebago, and Eskimo.
We are Apache, Hopi, Cree, Pawnee, Santee, Lumbee,
We are Ojibwa,
We are Quapaw, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Witchita,
Kaw, and Catabaw.
We are Dakota, Lakota, and Kituwah.
We are Creek, Blackfeet, Comanche, Abenaki, Yuchi,
Lenape, Shoshone and Potawatomi.
We are Ute, Paiute, Aleuts, Inuit;
We are Brule, Hunkpapa and Yankton Sioux;Haida,
Bannock, Wyandot, Mohawk, Sac and Fox, and Kickapoo.
We are them and they are we.
In the
600 nations join hands in the Circle.
The Spirit of Peace floats on air.
Black, yellow and white man joins the miracle.
Red man shows the way there.
Rainbow Woman lives at Manataka.
Sister to White
She sleeps in the deep of Mother Earth.
Yet, she is the sign in the sky to show the way,
Her colors are bright; to remind us of Grace as we pray.
We are the People of the Longhouse;
The sacred fire of seven woods lifts our prayers on smoke.
The Great Creator hears us.
And, the
Shaking and trembling from the sleep.
The mountain rumbles, big houses crumble
Pushing hot waters from the deep
People are in fear and some run like the deer
But we, the People of the Longhouse,
are humble and kneel to hear.
Great Creator speaks for Mother Earth.
"I want Manataka back"
The turn of the medicine wheel has come.
The
Sacred waters flow and we sing with the drum.
Great clouds of vapors emerge once more.
Colorful rainbows leap from the mists.
We walk the white cloud across the valley floor.
There is only peace; and no shaking fists --
The spirit of Manataka has arisen once more.
The Valley has changed yet it is the same.
There are no buildings to mar its face.
Metal noise replaced with amazing grace.
The Place of Peace - Manataka is its name.
We forgive those who took Manataka away;
and hid the waters for many days.
We come again for the healing breath of Nowasalon,
They come for the healing herbs and healing red clay;
We join hands and sing to the drum until dawn;
They come for the healing crystal and to pray.
To give much thanks to the Creator above,
We the People of the Longhouse ask blessing.
He gives us beauty, everlasting peace, and love.
So be it, we gather again to dance and sing.
هر كسي نغمه خود خواند و از صحنه رود،
صحنه پيوسته بجاست،
خرم آن نغمه كه مردم بسپارند به ياد».
((میر جلیل لوحی))
