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Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
N. Scott Momaday’s "Earth and I Gave You Turquoise" is an elegiac and deeply personal meditation on love, loss, and the enduring presence of the departed within the landscape of memory and ritual. The poem is steeped in Native American traditions, particularly those of the Kiowa and Navajo, weaving together natural imagery, cultural symbolism, and an intimate grief that is both private and communal. Through its lyrical simplicity, the poem captures a deep sense of longing, while also affirming the continuity of life and the spiritual bonds that transcend death. The opening line establishes the relationship between the speaker, the lost beloved, and the earth itself: “Earth and I gave you turquoise / when you walked singing.” The inclusion of the earth as an active giver suggests a sacred bond between the natural world and the person being addressed. Turquoise, a stone of great spiritual significance in many Indigenous cultures, represents both beauty and protection, often associated with the sky, water, and the eternal. The image of the recipient "walking singing" evokes a time of joy and vitality, when life was full and harmonious. The next lines reinforce the warmth of the past: “We lived laughing in my house / and told old stories.” This reminiscence of shared happiness is brief, soon interrupted by the ominous sign of illness: “You grew ill when the owl cried.” In many Native traditions, the owl is a harbinger of death, its call a warning of an impending loss. The shift from laughter and storytelling to sickness and the mention of the owl suggests that the beloved’s fate was foretold, bound to a larger cosmic order. The line “We will meet on Black Mountain” introduces a future reunion, possibly in the afterlife or in a sacred place of remembrance. The phrase carries a sense of solemnity and inevitability, as if the speaker and the deceased are still on parallel paths, destined to meet again in a spiritual realm. The second stanza moves from memory to ritual: “I will bring corn for planting / and we will make fire.” Corn, a staple and sacred crop in many Indigenous traditions, symbolizes renewal, sustenance, and continuity. The act of making fire further reinforces this idea, suggesting warmth, survival, and a spiritual presence. The promise that “Children will come to your breast” signals a continuation of life through future generations. The grief is not merely an individual burden but part of a larger cycle where life persists even after loss. The phrase “You will heal my heart” implies that the beloved’s presence, though absent physically, continues to offer solace and restoration. The refrain of remembrance continues: “I speak your name many times / The wild cane remembers you.” The act of naming keeps the lost one alive in memory, while nature itself—the wild cane—becomes a witness to their existence. This suggests a belief in the interconnectedness of people and the natural world, where the earth holds the echoes of those who have passed. The third stanza shifts to the speaker’s present reality: “My young brother’s house is filled / I go there to sing.” There is a sense of ongoing life and communal gatherings, but also a silence surrounding the loss: “We have not spoken of you / but our songs are sad.” The grief is present but unspoken, woven into the music rather than explicitly addressed. The mention of “Moon Woman” marks another symbolic passage—moonlight, a guiding force, becomes a path to the deceased. “I will follow her white way” suggests a journey toward reunion, either through memory, ritual, or death itself. The fourth stanza situates the loss within a larger communal setting: “Tonight they dance near Chinle / by the seven elms.” The reference to Chinle, a location in the Navajo Nation, roots the poem in a specific cultural landscape. The mention of “your loom whispered beauty” evokes the act of weaving, a significant art form among Navajo people, where beauty and tradition are intertwined. The line suggests that the deceased was a weaver, metaphorically crafting meaning and order into existence. The communal celebration—“They will eat mutton / and drink coffee till morning”—contrasts with the speaker’s isolation, as he and the beloved “will not be there.” This absence reinforces the emotional distance created by death, even amid ongoing life. The final stanza brings the poem to a deeply symbolic conclusion. “I saw a crow by Red Rock / standing on one leg / It was the black of your hair.” The crow, often associated with both death and transformation, becomes a physical manifestation of the beloved. The stillness of the bird, standing on one leg, mirrors the weight of grief—something missing, something imbalanced. The closing lines—“The years are heavy / I will ride the swiftest horse / You will hear the drumming hooves”—capture a sense of urgency and longing. The drumming hooves evoke both the literal sound of a horse’s gallop and the ceremonial beat of a drum, a heartbeat of remembrance, a call through time and space. The final image suggests that the speaker’s journey is not over; he is still in motion, still seeking, still bound to the memory of the lost one. "Earth and I Gave You Turquoise" is a deeply personal yet universal expression of mourning, blending individual grief with cultural continuity. The poem is structured around contrasts—past and present, presence and absence, joy and sorrow—while maintaining an underlying thread of spiritual persistence. Through nature, memory, and ritual, the speaker reaffirms a connection that death cannot sever. Momaday’s quiet, measured lines carry the weight of loss, yet they also suggest that love, like turquoise, endures beyond the boundaries of time.
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