In school I was taught the names۬Columbus, Cortez, and Pizzaro and۬A dozen other filthy murderers.۬A bloodline all the way to General Miles,۬Daniel Boone and general Eisenhower.
No one mentioned the names۬Of even a few of the victims.۬But don't you remember Chaske, whose spine۬Was crushed so quickly by Mr. Pizzaro's boot?۬What words did he cry into the dust?
What was the familiar name۬Of that young girl who danced so gracefully۬That everyone in the village sang with her--۬Before Cortez' sword hacked off her arms۬As she protested the burning of her sweetheart?
That young man's name was Many Deeds,۬And he had been a leader of a band of fighters۬Called the Redstick Hummingbirds, who slowed۬The march of Cortez' army with only a few۬Spears and stones which now lay still۬In the mountains and remember.
Greenrock Woman was the name۬Of that old lady who walked right up۬And spat in Columbus' face.۬We must remember that, and remember۬Laughing Otter the Taino who tried to stop۬Columbus and who was taken away as a slave.۬We never saw him again.
In school I learned of heroic discoveries۬Made by liars and crooks. The courage۬Of millions of sweet and true people۬Was not commemorated.
Let us then declare a holiday۬For ourselves, and make a parade that begins۬With Columbus' victims and continues۬Even to our grandchildren who will be named۬In their honor.
Because isn't it true that even the summer۬Grass here in this land whispers those names,۬And every creek has accepted the responsibility۬Of singing those names? And nothing can stop۬The wind from howling those names around۬The corners of the school.
Why else would the birds sing۬So much sweeter here than in other lands?
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