Mike Oldfield

Mike Oldfield - The Song Of Hiawatha

rate me

By the shore of gitche gumee

By the shining big-sea-water

At the doorway of the wigwam

In the early summer morning

Hiawatha stood and waited

All the air was full of freshness

All the earth was bright and joyous

And before him through the sunshine

Westward toward the neighbouring forest

Passed in golden swams, the ahmo

Passed the bees, the honey-makers

Burning, singing in the sunshine

Bright above him shone the heavens

Level spread the lake before him;

From it's bosom leaped the sturgeon

Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine

On it's margin the great forest

Stood reflected in the water

Every tree-top had it's shadow

Motionless beneath the water

From the bow of hiawatha

Gone was every trace of sorrow

As the fog from off the water

As the mist of the meadow

With a smile of joy and gladness

With a look of exultation

As of one who in a vision

Sees what is to be, but is not

Stood and waited hiawatha

Toward the sun his hands were lifted

Both the palms spread out towards it

And between the parted fingers

Feel the sunshine on his features

Flecked with light his naked shoulders

As it falls and flecks an oak-tree

Through the rifted leaves and branches

O'er the water floating, flying

Something in the hazy distance

Something in the mist of morning

Loomed and lifted from the water

Now seemed floating, now seemed flying

Coming nearer, nearer, nearer

Was it shingebis, the diver?

Or the pelican, the shada?

Or the heron, the shuh-shuh-gah?

Or the white goose, waw-be-wawa,

With the water dripping, flashing

From it's glossy neck and feathers?

It was neither goose or diver

Neither pelican nor heron

O'er the water floating, flying

Through the shining mist of morning

But a birch canoe with paddles

Rising, sinking in the sunshine

Dripping, flashing in the sunshine

And within it came a people

Can it be the sun descending

O'er the level plain of water

Or the red swan floatin, flying

Wounded by the magic arrow

Staining all the waves with crimson

With the crimson of it's lifeblood

Filling all the air with splendour

Filling all the air with plumage

Yes, it is the sun descending

Sinking down into the water

All the sky is stained with purple

All the water flushed with crimson!

No, it is the red swan floating

Diving down beneath the water

To the sky it's wings are lifted

With it's blood the waves are reddened!

Over it the star of evening

Melts and trembles through the purple

Hangs suspended in the twilight

Walks in silence through the heavens!

(h. w. longfellow. vocals: maddy prior)

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