Arts & Sciences
Women's Harvest Song
From Ballads for Sale (1927): Songs of the Pueblo Indians
I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.
The sunflower waves.
So did the corn wave
When the wind blew against it,
So did my white corn bend
When the red lightning descended upon it,
It trembled as the sunflower
When the rain beat down its leaves.
Great is a ripe sunflower,
And great was the sun above my cornfields.
His fingers lifted up the corn-ears,
His hands fashioned my melons,
And set my beans full in the pods.
Therefore my heart is happy
And I will lay many blue prayer-sticks at the shrine of Ta-wa.
I will give corn to Ta-wa,
Yellow corn, blue corn, black corn.
I wave the sunflower,
The sunflower heavy with pollen.
I wave it,
I turn it,
I sing,
Because I am happy.
Cite this poem
MLA
Lowell, Amy. “Women's Harvest Song.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/lowell_a/487/.
Chicago
Lowell, Amy. “Women's Harvest Song.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/lowell_a/487/.
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