The Aboriginal Dreamtime

Unto this king of people,
Life’s not a modern rhyme,
Ancient Culture be thy real love,
Govern’d, potency, Dreamtime.

Jiva or Guruwari, seed power,
Ever boding dreaming,
Thy sacredness enshrined,
A’fore the white man scheming.

Tis nobler, do not teach the teacher,
Thou canst not be Wandjina,
Assimilation, doubt thou spirits,
What says a horrible scar?

To thine Baiame thoust be true,
Hath not your mystery bonded?
An aboriginal nation,
On whitemans untimely stage, secondered.


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