Grandfather Sun and Grandmother Moon

Each find me sitting against this tree.

Three days and three nights have I watched the sky;

During this time I have not taken food

Nor spoken with anyone.

I am restless, and relieve myself often.

On the evening of the third day I climb the tree

And look down on the valley.

I think I should have done so sooner;

Now that I am up here

I can watch the sun setting.

This is the quest of a good-for-nothing.

After three days and three nights

I am a shrike’s limp victim in the branches.

Climbing up here, I was the moon;

The sun has gone, now I arise.

From the tree I whisper a confession.

The damp smell of earth fills my nostrils.