_Hi-ihiya naiho-o!_ The darkness of evening Falls as we sing before the sacred âmĭna. About us on all sides corn tassels are waving. _Hitciya yahina!_ The white light of day dawn Yet finds us singing, while corn tassels are waving. _Hitciya yahina-a!_ The darkness of evening Falls as we sing before the sacred âmĭna. About us on all sides corn tassels are waving. _Hitciya yahina!_ The white light of day dawn Yet finds us singing, while the squash leaves are waving. III _Hi-ihiya naiho-o!_ The earth is rumbling From the beating of our basket drums. The earth is rumbling from the beating Of our basket drums, everywhere humming. _Hitciya yahina-a._ Earth is rumbling, everywhere raining, _Hitciya yahina-a._ IV _Hi-ihiya naiho-o!_ Pluck out the feathers From the wing of the Eagle and turn them Toward the east where lie the large clouds. _Hitciya yahina-a!_ Pluck out the soft down From the breast of the Eagle and turn it Toward the west where sail the small clouds. _Hitciya yahina!_ Beneath the abode Of the rain gods it is thundering; Large corn is there. _Hitciya yahina!_ Beneath the abode of the rain gods It is raining; small corn is there. _Hitciya yahina._ A METATE SONG Is it not beautiful? Is it not, truly! Is it not beautiful? Is it not, truly! Is it not beautiful? Is it not, truly! Is it not beautiful? Is it not, truly! Is it not beautiful? Is it not, truly! On every side They are, The Trues, the rain-commanders; Do you not hear their drum? Because of that you will see This year the vapor floating; Because of that you will see This year the drizzling rain. Is it not beautiful? Is it not truly! In all the fields the corn upspringing, Like the young pine it comes up; Like the green aspen; In all the fields the corn upspringing, Tall like the tail of the thrush! Tall like the road-runner’s tail, In all the fields the corn upspringing! (Refrain of three lines of vocables.) FLUTE SONG (_Hopi_) I Hail, fathers, hail! Chieftain of the Gray Flute, hail! At the four world-points Ye call, ye summon clouds. From the four world-points upstarting, Shall the rain hither come. II Hither thunder, rain-thunder here, Hither the rain-thunder will come; Hither rain, moving-rain— Onward now, over all the fields, Moving-rain. And the wet earth, amid the corn, Everywhere, far and near, It will shine—water-shine. THE SUNRISE CALL (_Zuñi_) I