Red Man, White Man

1. Red Man

You've stolen land
away from us
you must return.

Your dirty hand
has robbed from us.
You've stolen land.

The life is bland
you've handed us,
you must return

that sacred land
right back to us.
You've stolen land,

the crime is grande,
we've turned to dust.
You must return

the dirt, the sand.
The spirits cry for us.
You've stolen land
you must return.


2. White Man

Your precious land, to us you sold,
worth less than a handful of beads,
and now this land is ours, we hold.

The land you had, we robbed, you've told
a million times, and planted those seeds.
But precious land, to us you sold,

it was a trade most fair, though bold,
and though for this, you pine and bleed,
now this old land is ours, we hold.

Your arguments have gotten old.
If land were worth more than those beads,
your precious land, would you have sold?

Yet now a portion we have doled--
a nation--separate and freed,
from all this land that we now hold.

More sympathy you have cajoled
from bleeding hearts that run like steeds,
though precious land to us you sold
and now this land is ours, we hold.

(C)2008, Christos Rigakos