Analysis of White Buffalo Calf
WHITE BUFFALO CALF
They told us our children would be civilized, but I barely even recognize; the child I once knew as Standing Arrow the look upon his face now with so much peril.
There was a time when things weren’t so strange to us. Our children spoke our language without a fuss, but now they stagger, fall, and they seem lost to us.
Oh black robe, can you not see what you have done? My grandson lost and spun. I cannot even hug him for he trembles at the touch. I cannot even wipe his tears as he walks in anger amid his fears. My grandson cannot hear his mothers voice as she cry’s assurance that this was not done choice.
My grandson, it’s ok to be what you must be, but make no mistake the world must see; that you are loved beyond compare and this is precisely what you must share; for the whole world needs to hear that you will no longer live in fear.
You were meant to be born at this time can’t you see. Even now it is ever more clear to me; that the seventh fire burns rapidly.
You were hurt but it was prophecy. Lessons learned in this hypocrisy and yet our ancestors vowed to help us see; that if the seventh fire should complete the earth shall not repeat; for if the spirit the red man shallows; our Mother does in shadow.
Our only hope is if the seventh generation;
wakes with contemplation; that our future rests on your great fire. And if you should desire.
To remember the first instruction and stop mans production;
And the birds shall sing again another day;
but only if you decide to stay.
Young man, the seventh is here so let us prepare. To the colors of he earth, our time is coming near. Remember who you are for we have traveled far.
Be what you were intended to be. Strengthen your voice so they hear our plea; that you still love beyond compare and that you are still willing to share, with the whole world that needs hear;
That no one will ever have to live in fear.
So be what your destined to be.
2 / 2 no
Scheme | XXXXABCDXDEEXXAB C |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101 11110101110111010100111111010010111111110 110111111111010110100101111101011111 11111111111111011101011111101110101111110100111111011101111010111111 111111111111110101111111010101101011111011111111110101 101111111111101111011111010101100 1011111001010101000110101111111010101010111011101001111010101 1010111010010 11010110101111100111010 101001010011010 00111010101 11011111 11010111110110101111011101010111111101 1110010111011111101111101010111110111011111 11111011101 11111011 1 |
Characters | 1,974 |
Words | 393 |
Sentences | 23 |
Stanzas | 2 |
Stanza Lengths | 16, 1 |
Lines Amount | 17 |
Letters per line (avg) | 89 |
Words per line (avg) | 22 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 758 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 191 |
About this poem
This poem takes the perspective have a grandfather who is one of the first to have his grandson taken forcibly by government and church and sent to Indian residential schools in America. It was there that the indigenous way of life would be changed forever but when they realize that they were taking more then our culture and language also are innocence. It was the spirit of the White Buffo Calf that speaks through the chief.
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