The Songs of the Voyage
The Songs of the Voyage (Utetun: a umkanymp - lit. 'The Songs') are a collection of oral histories told in song format, that document the migration of the Ilcari people through Xohura. The song starts with the departure of the first settlers from their home island, and details their arrival in what is now Afata, then travels northwards, through the Plain of Desca, and ends at the Diqupuk tundra.
Predating any form of writing, the songs are traditionally sung from memory and the rhymes and cadence have acted as an anchor for the language. This means that Utetun is almost unchanged since the end of the Third Age, making it the oldest spoken language in the world and predating Huswat by nearly two thousand years.
The songs have been preserved as a foundation of Ilcari heritage, with phrases and motifs making their way into children's rhymes and folk songs. The full song can be heard at national cultural events across eastern Xohura, most notably at the Nympiinim - a major pan-Ilcari cultural festival where national choirs sing their verse of the song. The coda, documenting the return journey and the unification of the culture, is sing by a soloist from each of the nations.
But our hearts must fly
The gods of the north call us
The sea is a broken gourd
Wide and ripe
On the white beach, our parents mourn us
We will return one day, but not as we are now
Not who we are now
We must go and be changed
We must go to the realm of the gods We, weary, travel the water
The smoking mountain calls us on
The great waves rises up
Water kisses the sky
Night and Day in congress
The storm throws us about
The winds scream 'relent'
We who breathe are resolute
Gods of the north are our guide
As we seek the fire of the mountain Land comes, bittersweet
The ships and sails are spent
We weep for the lost
We survivors of the storm
Sand like the sands of home
Trees like the trees of home
We are home and far from home
In the realm of the gods
And if the new land is of gods
Are our parents gods also?
Already we cannot return
Already we are Ilcari (alt: new people)
Intro to The Song of the New Land (Afata)
Translated by K’antu Choque Chakana It is bittersweet when we leave our homeBut our hearts must fly
The gods of the north call us
The sea is a broken gourd
Wide and ripe
On the white beach, our parents mourn us
We will return one day, but not as we are now
Not who we are now
We must go and be changed
We must go to the realm of the gods We, weary, travel the water
The smoking mountain calls us on
The great waves rises up
Water kisses the sky
Night and Day in congress
The storm throws us about
The winds scream 'relent'
We who breathe are resolute
Gods of the north are our guide
As we seek the fire of the mountain Land comes, bittersweet
The ships and sails are spent
We weep for the lost
We survivors of the storm
Sand like the sands of home
Trees like the trees of home
We are home and far from home
In the realm of the gods
And if the new land is of gods
Are our parents gods also?
Already we cannot return
Already we are Ilcari (alt: new people)
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