| in
the still
by Franz Brookmann |
in
de stil
fun Franz Brookmann |
in
de still
by Franz Brookmann |
| powwow |
weyhaa ya
|
powwow
de wind ut't apene land schrault, huult, kriescht sien weel un sien klaag un let vadder aadler sien hilligen schrieg still wedderhallen in dusend seelen in dusend liever ehr pasen ehr jumpen to't kloppen to't puckern as jümmers un ewig jümmer to jümmer to in't unrecht tohoop daan danßt se dat erinnern an't moderhart wat jüm seker wiggt schrievt se ehr leven danßt se ehr överleven mit ehr seelenschellen upfleit mit eerdensmuck un vereddelt mit trosse ogen streckt se ehr seelenflünk ut un fleegt'n schrieg achterna över wööstland un wolden över toppen un grünnen över grasland un water as 'n swarm droomvagels mit schillern fitjen tiedloos glieden in'n wind sien susen weyhaa ya |
powwow
the wind from the open land wimpers, howls, screams its joy and its complaint and makes father eagle's sacred call echo silently in a thousand souls in a thousand bodies' pacing jumping to the beating to the throbbing as ever and ever on and on on and on united in injustice they dance their memory of the mother's heart that rocks them into safety they write their lives they dance their survival with their soul shells adorned with earthen finery and ennobled with defiant eyes they spread their soul wings and follow the call across desert and woods across summits and depths across grasslands and water like a swarm of dream birds with sparkling plumage timelessly gliding in the wind's soughing weyhaa ya |
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