A sampler : "Thoka WaN Itkokip Ohitike KiN He"(Jan 1944)

[Clive Bloomfield]

New Years greetings, friends,

Here is a sampler of what I consider to be the high literary quality  
of Mr. Emil AFRAID-OF-HAWK's Lakota translations (& of the wonderful  
human insight & sensitivity of Ann Nolan CLARK.)
It is a passage [Pp. 19 to 21] from the above text : Thoka WaN  
itkokip Ohitike kiN He /"BRAVE AGAINST THE ENEMY" (1944) by Ann Nolan  
CLARK (1896-1995), which is subtitled in Lakhota :

"Wichoichage yamni etaNhaN wichowoyake : H^talehan akhotaNhaN kiN he,  
na h^talehaN kiN he na hiNhaNna kiN hehaNyaN wichowoyake waN."

[=A story of three generations : Of the day before yesterday, of  
yesterday, and of tomorrow.]

I believe it be a particularly fine example of the many writerly  
virtues of the work of two exceptionally gifted literary artists, one  
in the English language. This particular passage, imho, shows the  
styles of both writers at their best, as well as a constituting a  
splendid example of cultivated modern written Lakhota :

Ms. Ann Nolan CLARK (1898-1995), [Link
:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ann_Nolan_Clark]

and the other in Lakhota,

Mr. Emil AFRAID-OF-HAWK (possibly. born c.1855, or 1875 - prob. the  
former, if he was in fact the father of Frank Fools Crow's wife.)

As  stated here earlier, this man was an Oglala elder & long- 
experienced translator of the 1920's, '30's & 40's, who had been  
engaged by the then Bureau of Indian Affairs to translate some of  
Clark's graded school readers. This particular book seems to me to be  
the most advanced one, from the aspect of complexity of language &  
psychology. The earlier ones in the series seem simpler.


To set the scene a little, the boy LOUIE HEH^LOGECA (Louie  
Hollowhorn) and his father JOE, a poor, but honest cattleman, are  
enjoying a visit to the "Sioux
Country Fair" (Lakhota Okhiinyanke KiN). Like country people the  
world over, they cast a discerning but wistful eye over the various  
winning exhibits, including in this instance, the prize-bull!

( To save time with the shift-key, I will forgo writing the nasal "N"  
symbol, write "z^" as "j", use "g" rather than "g^", and write "s^"  
as "sh" from hereon in, but apart from that I'll try to transcribe as  
precisely as I am able to. Hope this inconsistency will not prove too  
annoying!)


Louie says to his Dad, Joe :

"Ate wanyanki yetho, hinyete kin hetan na sinte kin hehan iyagleya  
chuwi kin lila blaska yelo?"

Joe answers : "Taku oyas'in iyojula thanchan kithun welo. Thabloka  
kin le etan optaye washte wan ichagapi okihi hecha yelo!"

[="Father do you see how level his back is from his shoulders to his  
tail?"

Joe's answer : "He has everything, alright. There is a bull to sire a  
herd!"]


(At this point, the wife & mother, MARIE HEH^LOGECA, regards father  
and son with pensive eyes, and reflects to herself) :


Marie Heh^logeca hingnaku na chinza kin kici lila iawanyank  
wichakhuwa he.
Iteoyuze awichableze kin hingnaku kin wachantokpani tkha wowachinye  
nica wicasha kin hecha, na hoksila kin insh waechinchinpika  
wachantokpanipi kin hecha ableze.

"Tokheshkhe" echin, "Lakhota kin taku wanji aiyotanh^ci chinpi khesh  
t'inza yuhapi kta okihipi shni? Le wichasha mithawa kin waniyetu  
wikcemna top ptegleshka optaye wan wichayuichagin kte h^cin, na lila  
wowashi echun, na wanwichaglagye h^ci sanp conala ayapi, na  
tonakecapi kin he wiyawapi kin waniyetu yamni ihunniyan sotapi. Na  
anpetu kin lehanyan taku yuha he? Takuni h^ci yuha shni. Ptegleshka  
opawinge wikcemna wanji wicayuha tka k'un etanhan tahalo nahuhu e  
kayesh yuha shni," echin najin he.


[=Marie Hollowhorn watched her husband and son.
She read in their faces the hopeless longing of the man, the eager  
longing of the boy.

"Why is it," she thought, "that Indians never have what they want  
most? Here is my man who worked for forty years building a herd and  
had to see it dwindle and die in
as many months. What has he now? He has nothing. Not even the hides  
and the bones are left from a herd of a thousand head!"]


(Among Marie's answers to her own question, are the following  
thoughts on her husband's "undoing" & lack of conventional  
"success" : his great sense of duty, and
respect for traditional Lakota community-based values, in a word :  
his essential decency & integrity of character. Joe Hehlogeca, you  
see, has been a paragon of the traditional Lakhota virtues,  
especially Generosity (Wachanteognakapi). I found this incredibly  
moving, and indeed amazingly empathetic, considering it was written  
in the 1940's by a BIA teacher! -C.B.) :



Tkha hingnaku kin Lakhota kin he un hecheca shni kin he akhesh  
wicala. Thiyata wichithanwokshan Washicu pteyuha wichasha thipi kin  
hena Lakhota wah^panicapi kin insh eya iyehanyan wah^panicapi.  
Washicu kin lena insh eya ptegleshka optaye thanka wichayuhapi na  
lila awanwichaglakapi, na echekche akih^'ant'api, oblaye makhoche  
amagaju shni un cha gu na shpan chankhe, nainsh osmaka kin iyojugjula  
owashme kin echekche ichipahahaya ptegleshka that'eca kin tasakyela  
h^paya hiyeye.

Ho hel Lakhota kin ishnala wakhiphapi shni, Lakhota pte yuhapi kin  
ecelapi shni. Tkha tuwe oyas'in he akhiphapi.


[=But honesty told her that it was not because he was an Indian. The  
white ranchers around them were as poor as the Indians were. these  
white men had owned herds too and had watched them starve to death on  
the parched rainless plains or had found them piled in layers of  
frozen carcasses in some snow-filled ravine.

These things did not happen only to Indians, only to Indian owned  
cattle. they happened to all.]

(It would be fascinating to know Afraid-Of-Hawk's thoughts as he  
translated that passage! Might his feelings have been mixed? I do not  
presume to know, of course, but those are thought-provoking  
observations, are they not? -C.B.)




Shunkakhan oshpaye wan nakun tukte ehan wichayuhapi tkha cha he  
kiksuye. Lena, nakun, iyuha tokhah'anpi.

Ho akhe he ichunhan wowicakhe un hena hechetu chankhe akhesh heogna  
wicalaic'iye.

Ungna nakun waniyetu iwoblu thanka, na omakha opta puze kin, na taku  
hecheca
wicashepi kin hena kho wanice k'eyas ungna hingnaku kin hechenash  
anpetu kin lehanyan shunkakhan nicin kte sece.


[=She remembered the herds of horses they had owned once. These, too,  
were gone.

But here again honesty made her admit truth to herself.

Even if there had been no blizzards nor droughts nor hard times her  
husband might not have owned horses today.]






Tohanl chinca yukhanpi channa iyena hokshichanlkiyapi na  
sunkotuh^'anpi, na thakojakpaku yunkhan channa, na chincapi kin  
tohanl wanji okichiyuze echunpi channa hena el wawokihanpi na  
otuh^'anpi na wih^peyapi, na tohantuke esha thiwahe thawa kin el  
oiyokiphi wanji el wichahi kin hena iyohila el sunkotuh'an s'a cha  
hena iyuha kiksuya najin he.

Hona hehanl nakun tohanl thiwahe thawa kin el chinca nainsh  
thitakuyepi wanji wichunt'e woakhipha yukhan channa wochante shica un  
shunkotuh^'anpi yukhe.

Wana lehantu kin shunkakhan nainsh ptegleshka unmani yuhapi shni.


[= She remembered the horses he had given away when each of her sons  
were born, when grandchildren had come, at marriages, at feasts, at  
any time that joy had
entered their home.

And again he had given away his horses to show his grief when death  
had taken members of his family.

Now they had neither horses nor cattle.]






Waniyetu iwoblu thanka, na thate thanka, nainsh oyate thawicoh^'anpi  
kin , hena ecela un hecheca shni. Tkha taku oyas'in un hecheca.

Mniwanca khowakatan okichize thanka k'un hehan lila wichoshkinciye,  
pte waniyanpi wichayuhapi kin thalo yutapi kta cha un wiyophewicakiya  
iyowinwichakhiyapi na iyowichapashtakapi.

Tanyan mazaska iyuwinpi, tkha mazaska kin wiyopheya glusotapi na  
ptegleshka optaye thanka ota k'un conala oglaptapi.


[=It had not been only the blizzard, the tornadoes, the customs of  
the people. It had been everything.

In the boom days during the world war they had been encouraged to  
sell their cattle for beef.

It had brought in money, but the money had been spent and the herds  
depleted.]





Ho he iyohakap taku oyas'in khul iyaye k'un he e, na omakha puze k'un  
he e, na thate s'a k'un hena hiyawichagle kin hechun.

Ptegleshka optaye tonakel owichaglaptapi k'un hena hehanl t'api.

Wana lila waniyetu ota thate s'a kin he oblaye makhoche thowashte tka  
k'un ohiniyan thate, chankhe makhoche kin akanl ooshkinciye washte  
tkha k'un he ataya thate kin ikaphan ih^peye.

[=Then had come the Depression and the drought and the winds.

What had remained of the herds had died.

For years now the winds had blown over the plains, beating to dust  
the life of the plains.]





Ho hetanhan ptegleshka ichah^wichayapi wichoh^'an kin he  
iyatakunishni kin he wowicakhe s'elecheca. Hehan ooshkinciye k'un  
hena hecheya takuni kte shni sel?

Hiya! Okihiphicashni!

Inchin, wichasha otoiyohila thonipi kin he pte ichah^yapi kin hecela  
wachinyanpi kin heun.

Wichoni thawapi kin he e.

Ho cha he un etanhan tokhetuke c'eyas oihanke kte sni.

Tokhe esha magaju s'a ni!

Tkha magajushni un. Chankhe pheli kin ataya sheca.


[=Could it be true that cattle raising was doomed? That its day was  
done?

No! No! (lit. 'impossible!')

Cattle was all they had to live for.

It was their life.

It must not end.

If only rains would come!

but there was no rain. The grass was dead.]

==========================================================

I hope members may enjoy the clarity & elegance of that Lakhota as  
much as I do!

I am conscious of being enthusiastic about it, but needless to say, I  
am also interested in it in a more analytical & dispassionate way, so  
I would appreciate any critical observations, or corrections members  
may care to make.

Best regards,

Clive Bloomfield.

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