The Tchung-kee Player : Native American Poetry

You recognize me as Mississippian.

I come of a place that knows many tongues.

My village great in prosperity,

Our trade to wealth far sung.

North, South, East and West

From the Mundi every life disperse,

Between the living and the spirit world

The direction all must traverse.

I, born of a plain maize farmer

Heard a summon from the skies

And with the strength of a warrior

The skill for my descendants apprise.

I was guided by the Falcon

To become dominant of Tchung-kee,

And when I take leave the arena

Each player will give bend to me.

My spear glides above the clay

Sweeping the ring in its’ embrace

And in submission to my prowess

Place my opponents disgrace.

Crowds celebrate with dance

While others die by their shame.

Much power given and gone

As the Chieftain calls my name.

With the blessing of the Morning Star

May the Great Spirit accept my rise.

Let the blood of my people born after me

Take up again, my victory cries.