Sunday Kipling

It's cold here. Not as bad as it is where a lot of you live but for this boy, who's spent the last thirty years in moderate California, it's downright chilly. We've had snow twice in the last couple of weeks. Fun for a while but I'm still trying to acclimate. I know, cry me a river right? Some of you are being snowed in and facing severe Winter storms. You know what? Now that I think about it it's not quite so cold here after all. Perspective is a wonderful thing.

Lu and I will be spending this last Sunday of 2012 together. A quiet day at home, wrapped in the warmth of each others company. I hope this day finds you all warm, happy and with someone you love. For my brothers and sisters away from all they love and braving both the elements and those intent upon your harm a prayer for comfort and a safe return home.

All this talk of cold and snow makes me think of this poem. I hope you enjoy it. Have a fine day my friends.


Six

"Angutivaun Taina"

Song of the Returning Hunter (Esquimaux)

Our gloves are stiff with the frozen blood,
  Our furs with the drifted snow,
As we come in with the seal--the seal!
  In from the edge of the floe.

Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!
  And the yelping dog-teams go;
And the long whips crack, and the men come back,
  Back from the edge of the floe!

We tracked our seal to his secret place,
  We heard him scratch below,
We made our mark, and we watched beside,
  Out on the edge of the floe. 

We raised our lance when he rose to breathe,
  We drove it downward--so!
And we played him thus, and we killed him thus,
  Out on the edge of the floe.

Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood,
  Our eyes with the drifting snow;
But we come back to our wives again,
  Back from the edge of the floe!

Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq!
  And the loaded dog-teams go;
And the wives can hear their men come back,
  Back from the edge of the floe!