I have no ponies left to ride,
There are no visions in my mind
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness
My name is Joseph, this is my story:
I didn’t want fame, I didn’t seek glory,
My father’s land, I will defend it,
With my life, with my hands
We were on our way to the reservation,
Forced to go, our homes abandoned
My people’s hearts, they were breaking,
My young men killed, and a war was on
The Army found us in White Bird Canyon,
We were camped on the Salmon River
One hundred men, we did defeat them,
And away to death, to death we rode
Day and night they pursued us,
Along the rivers, up the Bitterroot
For young and old, the trail was brutal,
But we were running for our lives
Then one cold dawn in the Big Hole valley,
Their bullets came, in deadly volley
So many died, I can’t remember,
We fought them off, and we rode on
We crossed the Divide, and they came after,
Through the valleys into Yellowstone
Down the steps of Clark’s Fork Canyon,
Through the land of the Crow, and up the Musselshell.
We crossed the Missouri at Cow Island,
Twelve hundred miles we’d run and fought
We headed north through the Bear Paw Mountains,
And it was there our luck ran out
Five days and nights, we stood and fought them,
In the bitter wind, in the freezing snow
We shot each other all to pieces,
‘till the food ran out, the ammunition gone
My heart was sick, sad and heavy,
Children freezing, so many gone
I will fight no more, no more forever,
Where the sun now stands, I will fight no more.
I heard the thunder from the mountains,
I saw the blood, there on the plain
I feel a sorrow never ending,
Among the tears, everlasting pain
I have no ponies left to ride,
There are no visions in my mind
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness
I will fight no more… I will fight no more…
No more forever.
There are no visions in my mind
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness
My name is Joseph, this is my story:
I didn’t want fame, I didn’t seek glory,
My father’s land, I will defend it,
With my life, with my hands
We were on our way to the reservation,
Forced to go, our homes abandoned
My people’s hearts, they were breaking,
My young men killed, and a war was on
The Army found us in White Bird Canyon,
We were camped on the Salmon River
One hundred men, we did defeat them,
And away to death, to death we rode
Day and night they pursued us,
Along the rivers, up the Bitterroot
For young and old, the trail was brutal,
But we were running for our lives
Then one cold dawn in the Big Hole valley,
Their bullets came, in deadly volley
So many died, I can’t remember,
We fought them off, and we rode on
We crossed the Divide, and they came after,
Through the valleys into Yellowstone
Down the steps of Clark’s Fork Canyon,
Through the land of the Crow, and up the Musselshell.
We crossed the Missouri at Cow Island,
Twelve hundred miles we’d run and fought
We headed north through the Bear Paw Mountains,
And it was there our luck ran out
Five days and nights, we stood and fought them,
In the bitter wind, in the freezing snow
We shot each other all to pieces,
‘till the food ran out, the ammunition gone
My heart was sick, sad and heavy,
Children freezing, so many gone
I will fight no more, no more forever,
Where the sun now stands, I will fight no more.
I heard the thunder from the mountains,
I saw the blood, there on the plain
I feel a sorrow never ending,
Among the tears, everlasting pain
I have no ponies left to ride,
There are no visions in my mind
The sky is broken, the moon is down,
There is darkness
I will pray to the morning star,
Pray that I might carry on
Give me wisdom, give me life,
Give me courage
Once this great land was my home,
Where my people freely roamed
Now the world is torn apart,
There is darkness
I will fight no more… I will fight no more…
No more forever.
envoyé par Dead End - 5/9/2012 - 14:37
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Album “Journey” pubblicato nel 2004
Hin-mah-too-yah-lat-kekt – “Tuono che scende tumultuoso dalla mantagna” nella lingua dei Niimíipu, i “Nez Perce” - meglio conosciuto come “Chief Joseph”, è stato un importante capo di quella tribù di nativi nordamericani originaria dell’attuale Oregon. Suo padre già nella prima metà dell’800 aveva deciso di non opporsi ai bianchi invasori ma di stringere accordi con essi. Fu così che ai Nez Perce – che per giunta si erano convertiti al cristianesimo – fu concesso di restare in una limitata area originaria tra Oregon e Idaho. Non durò molto. La “febbre dell’oro” travolse ogni patto e ai nativi fu imposto un territorio ancora più risicato, insufficiente per la loro sopravvivenza già minacciata dalle torme dei cercatori. Chief Joseph si oppose all’abuso ma, come suo padre, scelse di non combattere. Un provvedimento federale diede ragione ai nativi, ordinando l’allontamento dei coloni dalle terre indiane, ma poi l’esercito li attaccò a freddo, senza provocazione, e i Nez Perce furono costretti a resistere. Chief Joseph si convinse che l’unica soluzione era raccogliere la sua gente e mettersi in marcia cercando di raggiungere il Canada. Ma la distanza era enorme (quasi 2.000 km) e l’esercito incalzava i fuggitivi. Ciò nonostante, i 200 guerrieri di Chief Joseph riuscirono a tenere testa in ben 18 scontri diretti a forze dieci volte superiori e molto meglio equipaggiate ed armate. Dopo aver lasciato centinaia di morti sul terreno (ma anche un centinaio di giacche blu uccise) la fuga dei Nez Perce fu fermata il 5 ottobre del 1877 sulle Bear Paw Mountains in Montana, a soli 60 km dal confine canadese.
Capo Giuseppe ed i sopravvissuti del suo popolo furono arrestati e deportati in Oklahoma dove molti morirono di malattie epidemiche.
Quel che restava dei Nez Perce potè tornare nel territorio originario di Wallowa Valley solo alla fine dell’800.
Giuseppe morì nel 1904, a 64 anni, in una riseva nello Stato di Washington.
Pochi giorni fa, nel corso di un’asta, un collezionista si è aggiudicato la divisa di guerra di Chief Joseph per una cifra vicina ai 900.000 dollari…
Se fosse stato ancora vivo nessuno l’avrebbe potuto comprare…