THE POETRY OF PRE-LITERATE PEOPLES
An unpublished anthology gathered by Kenneth Rexroth (ca. 1975)
Part 1: The Far North
Iglulik Eskimo
Ammassalik Eskimo [Greenland]
Thule Eskimo
Netsilik Eskimo
Hudson Bay Eskimo
Prince Albert Sound Eskimo
Eskimo [type unspecified]
Iglulik Eskimo
[1]
Magic Prayer
I arise from rest with movements swift
As the beat of a raven’s wings
I arise
To meet the day
Wa-wa.
My face is turned from the dark of night
To gaze at the dawn of day,
Now whitening in the sky.
Ammassalik Eskimo [Greenland]
[2]
Great grief came over me —
Great grief came over me,
While on the fell above us I was picking berries,
Great grief came over me
My sun quickly rose over it.
Great sorrow came over me
The sea out there off our settlement
Was beautifully quiet —
And the great, dear paddlers
Were leaving out there
Great grief came over me
While I was picking berries on the fell.
[3]
My song was ready
it was in my mouth
it was all ready
my song
but I gave up the hunt
because the sea got rough
the cold north wind blew
and I saw heavy fogs getting ujp
along the mountain I saw them running
I saw them getting up
the cold wet fogs out of the north sky
[4]
The Dream
Last night you were in a dream
I dreamed you were
walking on the shore
over the little stones
and I was walking with you
last night when I dreamed about you
I dreamed I followed you
I thought I was awake
I wanted you
as though you were a young seal
you were what I wanted
as a young seal
in the eyes of a hunter
before it dives because it’s being followed
you were what I wanted
that’s how
I wanted you
in my dream about you
[5]
Paddler’s Song on Bad Hunting Weather
I got my poem in perfect order.
On the threshold of my tongue
Its arrangement was made.
But I failed, indeed, in my hunting.
Thule Eskimo
[6]
Lullaby
It is my big baby
Then I feel in my hood
Oh how heavy he is!
Ya ya! Ya ya!
When I turn
He smiles at me, my little one,
Well hidden in my hood,
Oh how heavy he is!
Ya ya! Ya ya!
How sweet he is when he smiles
With two teeth like a little walrus.
Ah, I like my little one to be heavy
And my hood to be full.
[7]
A wonderful occupation
Making songs!
But all too often they
Are failures
A wonderful fate
Getting wishes fulfilled!
But all too often they
Slip past
A wonderful occupation
Hunting caribou!
But all too rarely we
Excel at it
So that we stand
Like a bright flame
Over the plain.
[8]
And I think over again
My small adventures
When with a shore wind I drifted out
In my kayak
And thought I was in danger.
My fears,
Those small ones
That I thought so big,
For all the vital things
I had to get and to reach.
And yet, there is only
One great thing,
The only thing:
To live to see in huts and on journeys
The great day that dawns,
And the light that fills the world.
Netsilik Eskimo
[9]
Magic Words Bring Luck When Hunting Caribou
Great swan, great swan,
Great caribou bull, great caribou bull,
The land that lies before me here,
Let it alone yield abundant meat,
Be rich in vegetation,
Your moss-food.
You shall look forward to and come hither
And the solelike plants you eat, you shall look forward to.
Come here, come here!
Your bones you must move out and in,
To me you must give yourself.
[10]
I remember the white bear,
With its back-body raised high;
It thought it was the only male here,
And came towards me at full speed.
Unaya, Unaya.
Again and again it threw me down,
But it did not lie over me,
But quickly went from me again.
It had not thought
Of meeting other males here
And by the edge of the ice-floe
It lay down calmly.
Unaya, unaya.
I shall never forget the great blubber-beast;
On the firm ice I had already flayed it,
When the neighbors with whom I shared the land there
Had just woken.
It was as if I had just gone to its breathing-hole out there.
Unaya, unaya.
There as I came across it,
And as I stood over it, it heard me,
Without scratching at the ice,
At the under edge of the firm ice to which it had hooked itself,
Truly it was a cunning beast —
Just as I felt sorry that I had not caught it.
Unaya, unaya.
I caught it fast with my harpoon-head,
Before it had even drawn breath!
[11]
Ogpingalik Abuses Takutjartak
There
How shall I go to compose this important song
How shall I invent it to help me
I am wholly ignorant
There
Those who have great facility to invent songs
Those who dance with elegance
Those who know the beautiful old chants
I will get inspiration from them
There
Where one gets caribou skins
To these places I shall walk and my thoughts will follow me
Early in the morning I get up
There
Between Oadlerk and Areark lakes I was hunting
There was Takutjartak like a great wolverine
There
Among the tall grass looking for mice to feed himself
I made a noise
You run away
There
With your two eyes you looked at me
Fascinated, astounded
A good large arrow I threw
At your fat ass
It was very annoying for you
You run away fast
There
Rexroth note: “Ogpingalik and Takutjartak were apparently real people, but they are assimilated to a mythic context which bears a remarkable resemblance to the legends of the Ainu or to the Finnish Kalevala.”
Hudson Bay Eskimo
[12]
I see your face.
It is always near me, though I
Am days away from you.
I see your face.
Alone, in the dark night
I turn down the light and
In the darkness, I see your face.
I see your face.
You did not want to cry, but I
Remember now, tears as we said goodbye.
That is how I see your face.
I will see your face.
Only wait. When spring birds fly
Home to nest and mate, so shall I,
And I will see your face.
By Luke Issaluk
Rexroth note: “a modern poet?”
Prince Albert Sound Eskimo
[13]
Let me sing against him, let me sing against him.
Let me sing against him, let me sing against him.
Though I walked on the ice down there,
Though I walked on the ice down there,
It did not seem like real ice.
Though I walked on the land down there,
Though I walked on the land down there,
It did not seem like real land.
Though I visited the lake down there,
Though I visited the lake down there,
It did not seem like a real lake.
Though I approached the ptarmigan down there,
Though I approached the ptarmigan down there,
It did not seem like a real ptarmigan.
Though I visited the woman down there,
Though I visited the woman down there,
She did not seem like a real woman.
Eskimo (unspecified)
[14]
The wicked little Kikook, ha hayah used to say,
I am going to leave the country
In a large ship.
For that sweet little woman
I’ll try to get some beads
Of those that look like boiled ones.
Then when I’ve gone abroad
I shall return again.
My nasty little relatives,
I’ll call them all to me
And give them a good thrashing
With a big rope’s end.
Then I’ll go to marry
Taking two at once:
That darling little creature
Shall wear only clothes of the spotted sealskins
And the other little pet
Shall have clothes of the young hooded seals.
[15]
The Strife of Savadlak and Pulangitsissok
Savadlak speaks:
The south, the south, and the south yonder,
Where settling on the midland coast I met Pulangitsissok,
Who had grown stout and fat eating halibut.
Those people from the midland coast don’t know spearing,
Because they are afraid to talk.
Besides, they are stupid.
Their speech is not the same.
Some speak like the northern folk, some like the southern,
We can’t make out their talk.
Pulangitsissok speaks:
There was a time when Savadlak wished I would be a good
kayaker,
That I could take a good load on my kayak.
Many years ago he wanted me to put a heavy load on my kayak,
When Savadlak had his kayak tied to mine for fear of being capsized.
Then he could carry plenty on his kayak.
Then I had to tow him and he cried.
He grew afraid,
And nearly was upset
And had to hold on to my kayak string.
[16]
I behold you, land of Nunarsuit,
The mountain tops on its south side are wrapped in clouds.
It slopes toward the south,
Toward Usuarsuk.
What could you expect in such a miserable place!
All its surroundings shrouded with ice.
Not before late in spring can people from there go traveling.
[17]
It robbed me, the wind,
Of my covering the wind robbed me.
Thus much I have saved,
Of my covering the wind robbed me.
Only that I could not put my hand on;
I thought if [of?] it, but did not put my hand on it.
The singers they take from me,
They take from me my song.
That song I did not refrain from letting go,
The drum I held it up again.
It robbed me, the spirit,
It robbed me of speech,
This much I have spoken,
The spirit robbed me of speech.
Only at that one — I did not wish to look at him;
Away to one side I turned my eyes.
It robbed me, the wicked bearded seal,
Of the harpoon line it robbed me.
Since the sealers too could not catch anything,
I did not let my harpoon lines go.
Since the sealers too could not catch anythinbg,
I waited and pulled hard at my harpoon-line.
[18]
Over there I could think of nothing else,
Beneath me when it breathed loudly through the water.
When the broth-provider was going to rush up to me,
Beneath me, I could think of nothing else.
While I had to give all my attention to the harpoon of
my making,
It pulled me strongly upwards and downwards.
Over there I could think of nothing else,
The grub animal — I could think of nothing else.
My fellows went to lay low the caribou.
The caribou — I could think of nothing else.
Over there I could think of nothing else,
When the antlered caribou began to come to me.
While I lay thus in my pit and listened intently,
The antlered caribou began to come to me.
[19]
Let me do nothing.
The lamp up there flares constantly in spite of everything.
This too let me tell it:
In search of meals also, my weapons,
You get me no game.
Let me do nothing.
This big bow, this bow is constantly lifted.
This too let me tell it:
In search of bull caribou, my weapon,
You send me home empty-handed.
Let me do nothing.
This big drum is constantly lifted.
This too let me tell it:
For singing dance-songs, my drum,
You make me weary of lifting you.
[20]
How am I to strike this one with a missile?
As it walks, let me strike it.
Since I cannot do it with a winged arrow,
With a stone let me strike it.
How am I to strike this one?
The king-eider [?] — let me strike it.
Since I cannot do it with a winged arrow,
With a stone let me strike it.
How am I to strike this one?
The black musk-ox — let me strike it.
Since I cannot do it with a winged arrow,
With the horn of my bow let me push it away.
How am I to strike this one?
The hare here — let me strike it.
Since I cannot do it with a winged arrow,
With a snare let me attack it.
SOURCES
1. Knud Rasmussen, Across Arctic America: Narrative of the Fifth Thule Expedition. Putnam, 1927.
2, 5. William Thalbitzer, Meddelelser On Gronland (Copenhagen): “The Ammassalik Eskimo: Contributions to the Ethnology of the East Greenland Natives,” vol. 40 (1923).
3-4. Paul-Émile Victor, Poèmes Eskimos. Pierre Seghers, Paris, 1958. English translation by W.S. Merwin in Lewis collection below.
6. Ditto, English translation by Charlene Slivnick in Lewis collection below.
7-9. Knud Rasmussen, Report of the Fifth Thule Edition 1921-24. Copenhagen.
10. Knud Rasmussen, The Netsilik Eskimos. Copenhagen, 1931.
11. Asen Balikci, The Netsilik Eskimo. New York, 1970.
12. Richard Lewis (ed.), I Breathe a New Song: Poems of the Eskimo. New York, 1971. (Several of the above songs are reprinted in this collection.)
13, 17-20. Report of the Canadian Arctic Expedition 1913-1918 (vol. 14). Ottawa, 1925.
14-16. Hinrich Rink, Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo (1875). (Reprinted in Paul Radin’s Primitive Man as Philosopher (New York, 1927), pp. 135-136.)
Part 1 of The Poetry of Pre-Literate Peoples.
The Poetry of Pre-Literate Peoples is the manuscript of an unpublished anthology gathered by Kenneth Rexroth (ca. 1975). The Introduction and other editorial material by Rexroth in it are copyright 2024 and reproduced here with permission of the Kenneth Rexroth Trust. However, neither the Rexroth Trust nor Rexroth’s Literary Executor assumes any legal responsibility for my posting of the various translated song lyrics that Rexroth tentatively selected for inclusion in his anthology; they are posted here exclusively on my own responsibility. The sources of each of the translations are specified at the bottom of the webpage where they appear. These translations were originally published between 1875 and 1973. Most of the books and scholarly journals in which they originally appeared are long out of print, and many of them are in the public domain. I have reproduced them here as a noncommercial public service. If any of them are still copyrighted and the copyright owner has any objections, please notify me and I will remove them from this site. —Ken Knabb