Bless This Land
2019; University of Oklahoma; Volume: 93; Issue: 4 Linguagem: Inglês
10.7588/worllitetoda.93.4.0034
ISSN1945-8134
Autores ResumoPOETRY Bless This Land by Joy Harjo Bless this land from the top of its head to the bottom of its feet From the arctic old white head to the brown feet of tropical rain Bless the eyes of this land, for they witness cruelty and kindness in this land From sunrise light upright to falling down on your knees night Bless the ears of this land, for they hear cries of heartbreak and shouts of celebration in this land Once we heard no gunshot on these lands; the trees and stones can be heard singing Bless the mouth, lips and speech of this land, for the land is a speaker, a singer, a keeper of all that happens here, on this land Luminous forests, oceans, and rock cliff sold for the trash glut of gold, uranium, or oil bust rush yet there are new stories to be made, little ones coming up over the horizon Bless the arms and hands of this land, for they remake and restore beauty in this land We were held in the circle around these lands by song, and reminded by the knowers that not one is over the other, no human above the bird, no bird above the insect, no wind above the grass Bless the heart of this land on its knees planting food beneath the eternal circle of breathing, swimming and walking this land The heart is a poetry maker. There is one heart, said the poetry maker, one body and all poems make one poem and we do not use words to make war on this land Bless the gut labyrinth of this land, for it is the center of unknowing in this land Bless the femaleness and maleness of this land, for each holds the fluent power of becoming in this land When it was decided to be in this manner here in this place, this land, all the birds made a birdly racket from indigo sky holds Bless the two legs and two feet of this land, for the sacred always walks beside the profane in this land These words walk the backbone of this land, massaging the tissue around the cord of life, which is the tree of life, upon which this land stands Bless the destruction of this land, for new shoots will rise up from fire, floods, earthquakes and fierce winds to make new this land We are land on turtle’s back—when the weight of greed overturns us, who will recall the upright song of this land Bless the creation of new land, for out of chaos we will be compelled to remember to bless this land The smallest one remembered, the most humble one, the one whose voice you’d have to lean in a thousand years to hear—we will begin there Bless us, these lands, said the rememberer. These lands aren’t our lands. These lands aren’t your lands. We are this land. And the blessing began a graceful moving through the grasses of time, from the beginning, to the circling around place of time, always moving, always Editorial note: From An American Sunrise (W.W. Norton, 2019), copyright © 2019 by Joy Harjo. Reprinted by permission of the author. 34 WLT AUTUMN 2019 What recent book has captured your interest? I just started reading Ocean Vuong’s love letter to his mother, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. What poetry. With whatever Vuong writes, I always have the sense that he is standing absolutely where he is in history, in time, in his body, while bearing the inscribing tool of metaphor and dreams. What outside the realm of literature has drawn your attention of late? The poet laureateship. There is so much involved with the position , although it doesn’t officially begin until the opening event at the Library of Congress on September 19. I’ve been in DC, meeting with staff and viewing collections in many of the departments . What a resource! The Library of Congress is the world’s largest public library, and anyone sixteen and over can obtain a library card. I got to hold Walt Whitman’s cane, see part of the largest comic book...
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