Warrior

Before I met you
I fought battles
carried heavy Stilla*chains
over mountains under guard
Sat in barricades of ice
with smokey tears
among my people in skins
the powers came
broke reindeer hooves and
sucked out the marrowbones
of that
which once was a flowing river
traveled long journeys
through deserts of
cactus and sand
over rocks and raped earth

The Inca warrior’s moon hut
is built at the tip
of a heaven high crag
The road is full of cactus
needles
and loose stones that don’t hold
a grip
In the hut are four windows
facing the heaven’s directions
A footstep from the door
shouts the Andes deep crevice

Green cocoa leaves
four in all
carefully chosen
and thrown to the wind
to the mountain’s high Goddess
The rest are chewed
mixed with brown flecked chalk
This is the way to handle the
drudgery
hunger and dust
in the high landscape
The clouds lie at the doorstep

*Translator: Stilla is the portion of the Alta river where protesters against the dam chained themselves

Lover

In dreams
he comes
dancing
In a rainbow gákti
Be my bride
he whispers
at the sky’s
edge awaits
his enchanted
canoe

You are my bride
he drums
with dim voice
swings me around
lips kiss
cloudberries
the neck wafts
labrador tea
on the head
a birch sprout
in Finnmark’s April
his blueviolet hair
curls itself
braids itself
around my blond

come with to my lavvu
my smoky tent
let us burn
a fire
and stare hard
into the flame

We travel slowly
we burn in the
short darkness
sparks of fire
fly up in the night
before the polar snow
shines again

Clown

The clown comes
uninvited
Goes in all the houses
asking for me
with headgear
of swaying crow feathers
He knows where
I live
has been here before
unasked
ate up the mountain lunch
my mother packed
and made her
angry

Everyone in the village
points and tells
where I live
Everyone stares
after him
when he walks
right past my
house
in a proud march
into the woods
I don’t feel like
calling after
Long afterwards
he takes his clothes off
comes in and bellows
that he must bathe
at once!

I run high up
to the lookout
let the mountain breathe
me free

Close the door
do not lock it

Finally he goes
dragging stones
reindeer skin and an antler
Headfeathers swaying
backward when he
stops the bus

Thanks to the Thirsty

thanks to all of you
who weren’t so obedient
didn’t always follow
the law – the ten commandments
but let the strong medicine
warm your breast
so that the forbidden yoik
freed itself
from its cage in the throat
The heart could fly
a little closer to the old gods
those we were supposed to forget
You yoiked
and saw to it that
our inheritance
was kept alive
so that it today
can be heard
on stage
enjoyed even by kings
Before no one besides
the drinkers dared to yoik
Thanks for drinking
and yoiking.

Marry Ailonieida Somby is a Sami writer from Deatnu. She has published the first children’s book in Sami and has published four books of poetry, several theater pieces, and a novel. The above poetry is from the book "Mu Apache rahkesvuchta/ The Warrior, the Lover and the Clown," except "Thanks to Thirsty," originally published in Trykk 2005, University of Tromsø. "Thanks to the Thirsty" also appeared in Gába, 1, 2006, a magazine by Sami women.