« My name is Nayati » part 3

« My name is Nayati »

They call me Nayati : « the one who fights », 

If you hear these words, it means that I have left this world, 

The very one I have loved so much.

I will tell you a story, but this story is not mine,

It is the story of a whole people, and as all peoples we had a beginning.

The love of the woman who gave me birth made me strong all my life
long, 

Even when the shadows surrounded my soul, 

The only remember of her kindness defeated them.

The elderly people of my village say that a mother’s love cannot be
stopped like the river flow, and is unalterable like the sky.

Now, I am going to make my remembers talk, 

The ones of a life who saw the radiance of the sun through the mane of the horse, 

As well as a brother’s death on a battlefield.

« Peopeo », this is the name we give to the birds, 

Between the sky and the earth, just above the seas, 

They fly …


« Noires sont les roses »


« My name is Nayati » draws its inspiration from the peoples of
«
the First Nations ».

Nayati is a testimony to the memory of the « Native Americans ».

This civilization has left its mark on our world on many ways.

NOIRES SONT LES ROSES

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