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BLACKHAWK'S AMERICAN INDIAN TRADITIONS 1


I have heard talk and talk but nothing is done. Good words do not last long unless they amount to something. Words do not pay for my dead people, they do not pay for my country, they do not protect my father's grave. Good words will not give me back my children. Good words will not give my people good health or stop them from dying. I AM TIRED OF TALK THAT COMES TO NOTHING. It makes my heart sick when I remember all the good words and all the broken promises !
JUST LOOKING FOR SOME PEACE...:

HOKA HAY!

So live your life so the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their views, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and of service to your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a stranger if in a lonely place. SHOW RESPECT TO ALL PEOPLE, BUT GROVEL TO NONE. When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies in yourself. Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise ones turn to fools and robs them of their visions. When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home. -TECUMSEH-

IN THE PAST....

which is now lost forever, there was a time when the land was sacred, and the ancient ones were as one with it. A time when only the children of the Great Spirit were here, to light their fires in these places with no boundries. When the forests were as thick as the fur on a winter bear. When a warrior could walk from horizon to horizon on the backs of the buffalo. When the deserts were in bloom and the streams pure as freshly fallen snow. In that time, when there were only simple ways, I saw with my heart the conflicts to come. And, whether it was to be for good or bad, what was certain was...that there would be change.
Traditions Page 2

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MITAKUYE OYASIN