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.