Black Elk Speaks: Being the Life Story of a Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux, The Premier Edition

Product Information

Therefore I am sending a voice Great Spirit, my Grandfather, forgetting nothing you have made, the stars of the universe and the grasses of the earth. With tears running, O Great Spirit, Great Spirit, my Grandfather, with tears running I must say now that the tree has never bloomed. A pitiful old man, you see me here, and I have fallen away and have done nothing. Here at the centre of the world, where you took me when I was young and taught me; here, old, I stand, and the tree is withered, Grandfather, my Grandfather! And I, to whom so great a vision was given in my youth—you see me now a pitiful old man who has done nothing, for the nation’s hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead. Arī šajā grāmatā ir faktu materiāls par to, piemēram, viņi karo pat savā starpā, nogalina, rituālos upurē dzīvniekus, necienīgi izturas pret ienaidnieka līķiem - noskalpē, savāc apģērbu...

Orange, Tommy (22 Jul 2021). "The Untold Stories of Wes Studi". GQ. Condé Nast . Retrieved 2 September 2023.However, they were both successful at the same thing: depicting South Dakota as one of our most beautiful states, a place where young children and their families could both rely on Nature's bounty and be restored by it, in every sense. It is a state I hold so dear to my heart, and both of them have made me love it even more, realizing what it must have been for them.

That may explain his transformation of the plain-spoken style of the transcript into a somewhat maudlin kind of free verse, seeming to my eyes to be modeled after Goethe's "Sorrows of Young Werther" or the American transcendentalists. It is not some fanciful romanticized Cowboys and Indians tale of the sort on which I was raised. It is another version of the truth, one in which an honorable, dignified, and ancient culture were systematically cheated, misled, murdered, and ultimately destroyed in the name of western progress. Tout ce que fait le pouvoir de l'Univers se fait dans un cercle. Le ciel est rond et j'ai entendu dire que la terre est ronde comme une balle et que toutes les étoiles le sont aussi. Les oiseaux font leur nid en cercle parce qu'ils ont la même religion que nous. Le soleil s'élève et redescend dans un cercle, la lune fait de même, et tous deux sont rond. Les Wasichus nous ont mis dans ces boites carrées (maisons), notre pouvoir s'en est allé et nous allons mourir parce que le pouvoir n'est plus en nous.

Customer Reviews

You have said to me, when I was still young and could hope, that in difficulty I should send a voice four times, once for each quarter of the earth, and you would hear me.

I've made it to the half-way point, and the audio book is now on its way, too, but I had some interesting revelations of my own, while I was reading this important work. My friend, I am going to tell you the story of my life…and if it were only the story of my life I think I would not tell it; for what is one man that he should make much of his winters, even when they bend him like a heavy snow? So many other men have lived and shall live that story, to be grass upon the hills…This, then, is not the tale of a great hunter or of a great warrior, or of a great traveler, although I have made much meat in my time and fought for my people both as boy and man, and have gone far and seen strange lands and men…But now that I can see it all as from a lonely hilltop, I know it was the story of a mighty vision given to a man too weak to use it; of a holy tree that should have flourished in a people’s heart with flowers and singing birds, and now is withered; and of a people’s dream that died in bloody snow. Sākotnēji indiāņi tika radīti kā ļoti enerģētiski spējīga un jaudīga tauta, viņi sadarbojās ar stihijām, perfekti pārzināja stihiju valodas kā gari runā, viņi mācēja runāt vēja valodā, zemes valodā utml.Everyone believes in the atrocities of the enemy and disbelieves in those of his own side.” ~ George Orwell I could see that the Wasichus did not care for each other the way our people did before the nation’s hoop was broken. They would take everything from each other if they could, and so there were some who had more of everything than they could use, while crowds of people had nothing at all and maybe were starving. They had forgotten that the earth was their mother.

grāmata ir par Ziemeļamerikas indiāņu tautas nežēlīgas iznīcināšanas aculiecinieku stāstījumu par tautai liktenīgiem notikumiem 19.gs. otrajā pusē.Es lūkojos atpakaļ pagātnē un atsaucu atmiņā savas tautas seno dzīvesveidu, bet vairums vairs nedzīvoja tā kā agrāk. Viņi bija uzsākuši iet pa melno ceļu, katrs pats par sevi, ievērojot tikai nedaudzus savus likumus" (194.lp.) From the west you have given me the cup of living water and the sacred bow, the power to make life and to destroy. You have given me a sacred wind and and an herb from where the white giant lives --- the cleansing power and the healing. The daybreak star and the pipe, you have given from the east; and from the south, the nation's sacred hoop and the tree that was to bloom. To the centre of the world you have taken me and showed the goodness and the beauty and the strangeness of the greening earth, the only mother --- and there the spirit shapes of things, as they should be, you have shown to me and I have seen. At the centre of this sacred hoop you have said that I should make the tree to bloom. Although harder for our scientific western culture to fathom, it is also possible to see these visions as visions, experienced by a person who was open to them by either illness or ability. Kā 4.rasei raksturīgais - indiāņi vienīgie šobrīd nav ar verga imprintu/programmu un arī vienīgā tauta, kurai nav alkohola sašķelšanās gēna - viņi pat no vienas glāzes neatiet un, kas ar to aizraujas, ir norakstīti cilvēki.