By Ponung Angu
Her face towards the warm sunshine,
she swings on the twisted vine
With the winds ruffling her wavy tendrils,
she sings aloud in a robust voice,
a song she remembers, in bits and pieces
lélé o léllé * a song of the ages
Angong é! go goyi yang! **
Angong paksong! go goyi yang!
Melting into a hypnotic trance
she hears them calling, echoing from the hills
***Aloh! but the chanting fades away
lélé o léllé, for it was only in her mind.
Clasping tight she lunges forward
As the wind buoys her to the open skies
Hidden behind those intriguing mists
she hears the voices whispering across
“Fly little girl, fly to the skies”
lélé o léllé, she hears the spirits sing
Her dreams fly high in a riot of colours
Gliding along on the wings of a butterfly
But that was the time when she was so young
How could have she known
that fate was so fickle?
lélé o léllé, her dreams burnt out, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
“I remember in the summertime, I would fall asleep
When father would cradle me
And mother would sing to me
But that was sometime, so very long ago
Now I cry into my pillow till I fall asleep”
lélé o léllé, the pillows are all spotted.
She works all day beneath a heartless sun
her face and hands all covered in soot
Summer, winter, autumn, spring
Nothing changes, nothing moves
Every second, every moment, everything is just the same
lélé o léllé, but the seasons always change
When the summer rains fell
Like the tears from her eyes
she would sing with the rhythm
of the softly falling rains
Where would I be if there were no rains!
***Ulo lo lo Aiya ya ya! My heart beats with pain
Dark clouds rush to gather as one
As the sun rolls back the cold wintery skies
The parched earth sings a song of the ages
And she sings along without missing a beat
As soft as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings
lélé o léllé how I wish for spring!
Alone by the fireside,
she tries to warm herself
when evening crumbles shakily
And night swiftly falls,
She tries to kindle the dying embers,
Aloh! but the cinders have burnt to ash
When night soon cast its sinful shadows
and fireflies’ glowed in the inky darkness,
Tracing the path of the faint digin diyu****
up in the night skies with her failing sights
She sings woefully in her trembling voice
“lélé o léllé, winter is here and summer has left”
*** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ***
* a rhythmic chant used while singing/dancing (pronounced as leh leh o lel leh)
**a chant used while calling out friends to play
*** expressions of concern or grief
****The Adi tribes from Arunachal Pradesh consider the milky way as the boundary between summer and winter. They call it the Digin(winter)-Diyu(summer) risu (border)