The first large head of my tribe
was called - black eagle -
War after war, the white settled
And changed until the names of the men
Thus in our small village
We had George Washington, eagle black
Franklin Delano Roosevelt, black eagle
John Fitzgerald Kennedy, black eagle
But me I am called black eagle
And my son will be called black eagle
Our small village was called Yucatapa
Yucatapa, the green island
They made New York of it
But me I live in Yucatapa
Right in the middle of their New York
Indians my brothers
Indiens my brothers
They soiled
Our wives and our rivers
Our wives and our rivers
They drowned our grounds
They drowned our grounds
They burned our Indian
Gods my brothers Indiens my brothers
They gained
And me, they did not attach me
With their chain of gold and their chain of steel
And sometimes I dream
I dream that I fly above the rotted city
And I re-examine Yucatapa the green island
And from this green island
Fume goes up
I go down again to cough with the others
And I walk I walk in Broadway
Which curves like a path of
Bellow war each paving stone, there is a hatchet
Which waits
And sometimes I feel an arc in my hands
And I aim at the top of a building Mr Rockfeller,
my arrow And Mr Rockfeller falls from the top of his empire
My arrow in his eye the eye burst
Who fall and falls down
