Sitting on my hillside
I look across the waters
to where the rivers meet
Kaluket, my home

There were once many fires
and many of my people
dancing, singing
a place of joy and plenty

The prophets spoke
of trouble to come
of wars and hunger
that we would lose our way

The prophets spoke
of lakes like oceans
where the bountiful grains
grow on the water

I did not believe
I did not want to leave
oh, I did not want to leave
this place, my home

The smells of sweetgrass
and fields of lupine
flowers the color of the waqatasg
the spirits that dance in the north sky

I wonder where are my people
if they are safe and happy
on their long journey
to where the sun sets

I am old, and tired
and too stubborn to go
oh I miss the fires and dancing
across the water in Kaluket

But I am not alone
the scent of sweetgrass
and the dancing fires of lupine
keep me company on my little hill

Wausek, is the name that chose me
flower of spring that cannot last
I will bloom again
long from now

In the far off land
with lakes like oceans
where grain grows on the waters
and the people are happy and kind