_Hai-ya, hai-ya,—hai-ya, hai-ya_— All my song is lost and gone. Sad at heart is the bluebird, All my song is lost and gone, Woe is me, alas! alas! All my song is lost and gone! SONG OF THE UNHAPPY WIFE (_Dakota_) Sorely I am distressed; Sorely I am distressed; Sorely I am distressed. The earth alone continues long; I speak as one not expecting to live, Sorely I am distressed; The earth alone continues long. THE SONG OF UKIABI (_Cegiha_) I am walking to and fro! I can find nothing which can heal my sorrow. A LOVER’S LAMENT (_Tewa_) My little breath, under the willows by the water-side we used to sit, And there the yellow cottonwood bird came and sang. That I remember and therefore I weep. Under the growing corn we used to sit, And there the little leaf bird came and sang. That I remember and therefore I weep. There on the meadow of yellow flowers we used to walk. Oh, my little breath! Oh, my little heart! There on the meadow of blue flowers we used to walk. Alas! how long ago that we two walked in that pleasant way. Then everything was happy, but, alas! how long ago. There on the meadow of crimson flowers we used to walk. Oh, my little breath, now I go there alone in sorrow. MY HOME OVER THERE (_Tewa_) My home over there, my home over there, My home over there, now I remember it! And when I see that mountain far away, Why, then I weep. Alas! what can I do? What can I do? Alas! What can I do? My home over there, now I remember it! HUNTING-SONG (_Navaho_) Comes the deer to my singing, Comes the deer to my song, Comes the deer to my singing. He, the blackbird, he am I, Bird beloved of the wild deer. Comes the deer to my singing. From the Mountain Black, From the summit, Down the trail, coming, coming now, Comes the deer to my singing. Through the blossoms, Through the flowers, coming, coming now Comes the deer to my singing. Through the flower dew-drops, Coming, coming now, Comes the deer to my singing. Through the pollen, flower pollen, Coming, coming now, Comes the deer to my singing. Starting with his left fore-foot, Stamping, turns the frightened deer. Comes the deer to my singing. Quarry mine, blessed am I In the luck of the chase. Comes the deer to my singing. Comes the deer to my singing, Comes the deer to my song, Comes the deer to my singing. A SONG OF THE DEER CEREMONY (_San Carlos Apache_) At the east, Where the jet ridges of the earth lie.... At the south, Where the white shell ridges of the earth lie, Where all kinds of fruit are ripe, We two will meet.