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Heavy Pup
They sang it was so
Even witout words,
That Malakui, the Brightest One,
Had a pup conjoined.
We celebrated for many years.
We worshiped the oscillating stars
And their constant cousins,
Granfather Moon,
The Blood Star and the
Roving Lion Pair.
I, Himantiab, was the man
In the jungle moving,
Who first the little ones observed.
In my loinclout they laid hands upon my shoulders,
Brought me down to my knees,
And when feeling my face and lips
I first heard their song without words,
Their song of lights in the newborn gaseous sky.
Some came from far North,
A group of Whites,
And they wanted to know
How we knew of the Heavy Pup.
We kept the secret of those
Who sang witout words.
So they gave us the wrong name,
The Unnaming Tribe, or some such,
Not Dogon,
And we laughed around
The fires of eternity.
poem
by
Stan Petrovich
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