^{translated from the Ojibwe by the author}

At the threshold
of melancholy
is a voice barely heard

a light wrapped in fog
and a piece of steel
longing for flint.

Strike it.
 

Zisikinebidoon

Gashkikanokaaning
apii gashkenindaman
agaawaa bapoweyan

waateg gashkaabateg
manidoo-biiwaabik
misawenimaad biiwaanan.

Zisikinebidoon.