kiya kâ-pakaski-nîmihitoyan ~ You Who Dance So Brightly

You died, Dad, and the skies darkened

as an eclipse extinguishes

the day, pushes the sun

into the ground.

wanitipiskipayin, kotâwîwipîsim.

But soon enough I hear

you echo. wîpac ka-pêhtâtin ê-cîstâwêyan,

and you shine clear as the Leaf-Falling Moon.

ê-kîhkâyâsowêyan

tâpiskôc awa

pinâskowi-pîsim

ê-kîsikâyâstêk.

I tell everyone your story,

how you spoke Cree so well,

so brilliantly I say,

ê-kî-pakaskît nohtâwiy,

in nêhiyawêwin.

As if you are a colour

shimmering keenly

as those ghosts who dance, ablaze

in the northern sky. kitaspâsowân

mwêhci aniki

cîpayak kâ-nîmihitocik.

Red like the sky as the sun retires,

tâpiskôc kâ-mihkwaskâk ispîhk

kâ-pahkisimok. Yellow, when

the sun emerges from slumber,

dawn beckons from a distance, osâwinâkwan

tâpiskôc ispîhk ê-pê-sâkâstêk.

Green, deepened as a forest

by winter’s interlude,

askîhtakoskâw

wâwîs kâ-pipohk.

Lucid as the hues in heaven

when kisê-manitow opens

the gates for you,

pakaski-kihci-kîsikohk

ispîhk ê-yôhtêpitamâsk

kihci-kîsikowi-yôhtênawêwina

kisê-manitow.

I am told not to look osâm

ê-cîpayâmatisoyân ispîhk

kiya ê-cîpayikawiyan

kâ-pakaski-nîmihitoyan

mâka kipêhtâtin

ê-cîstâwêyan êkwa

ê-pakaskîhtâkosiyan.