The Yanomami

Cold shadows of thunderclouds over the forest,
Forest and river blur together all grey
In the sizzling rain that sweeps in torrents,
Purging the overheated earth.

Red howler monkeys pierce the dawn mist with shrieking,
Baritone clarions carrying across the treetops.
White butterflies dance like stars
Over the black river’s flood.
Silver sunlight on the leaves.
The earth is a blackened pot over a murmuring fire.

Bitter manioc venomed with prussic acid,
Black honeycomb oozing delight;
Light and darkness battle in the forest,
Maggots breed in the monkey’s corpse.
The monkey, the anteater, the lizard
Are our brothers, our shadows on the move.

The storyteller lives inside his story,
Becoming all the characters, speaking in their voices,
Enacting their fates with his own breath.

In the time when people were animals
The Alligator discovered fire
And tried to keep it for himself alone.
While everyone else ate their meat raw
He cooked his food in secret,
Keeping the precious flames hidden in his mouth.
But one day two hummingbirds
Flew down and circled round him,
Round and round so merrily
That the Alligator laughed with delight;
Instantly the hummingbirds darted in
And snatched the embers from inside his jaws,
Then flew off at once to bring this gift to man.

A lone man dances in the rain, arms outstretched,
Singing and shrieking, running through the forest,
Sudden laughter bursting from his mouth,
His mad head rocking, his body shaking.
He runs in circles, then falls on his back
And his wide eyes watch the rain falling
As he giggles with delight.

We breathe the dream-stuff into our brains;
Weightless, we ascend and fly,
Leaping from branch to branch in the forest
To sing our own song in the sky.
Silently, music appears in our mouths
And fills the emptiness.

The white men bring evil spirits;
They dig up disease from the earth.
The shouting sky begins to crack;
All must fall and die.

Birth and death incessant,
Germination and decay;
New leaves of bright lime or dark red
Unfurl at the tip of every branch,
The first green fruits hang from the palms.
Purple flowers open for bees to pollinate,
Flocks of parrots cry across the brown river,
Honey is sweet in the comb,
Catfish dawdle in the shallows.

A lone figure dances in the clearing in the moonlight,
A shadow turning and jumping,
Waving his arms with shouts and groans,
Snatching flaming logs from the fire
And hurling them through the air;
Sparks fly in the darkness
As he fights the invisible one.

Rain falls,
And the water is people,
Immense dreams falling, drenching the earth.