When It Rains: Tohono O'odham and Pima Poetry (Volume 7)

by Ofelia Zepeda (Editor)

When it was first released in 1982, When It Rains was one of the earliest published literary works in the O’odham language. Speakers from across generations shared poems that showcased the aesthetic of the written word and aimed to spread interest in reading and writing in O’odham.

The poems capture brief moments of beauty, the loving bond between family members, and a deep appreciation of Tohono O’odham culture and traditions, as well as reverent feelings about the landscape and wildlife native to the Southwest. A motif of rain and water is woven throughout the poetry in When It Rains, tying in the collection’s title to the importance of this life-giving and sustaining resource to the Tohono O’odham people. With the poems in both O’odham and English, the volume serves as an important reminder of the beauty and changeability of the O’odham language.

The themes and experiences expressed by the language educators in this volume capture still-rural community children are still bussed for miles to school, and parents still have hours-long daily commutes to work. The Sonoran Desert also remains an important part of daily life—seasons, rain on desert plants, and sacred mountains serve as important markers.

In a new foreword to the volume, Sun Tracks editor Ofelia Zepeda reflects on how meaningful this volume was when it was first published and its continued importance. “Things have changed but many things remain the same,” writes Zepeda. “The pieces in this collection will be meaningful to many still.”

Genres: Poetry

96 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 1982

Reviews

[Camille Dungy]

First published in 1982 and reissued in 2019, this book is one of the earliest published collections of literature written by and in the language of the Tohono O’odham Nation and the Gila River Indian (Pima) Community. Though when it rains is presented in a bilingual format, the writing was originally composed in Tohono O’odham and Pima. Zepeda believes this offered the nearly twenty mixed generation poets presented in the collection a crucial opportunity to write differently than they might in English. “I believe it would not have been as meaningful. Since we have no word for ‘poetry’ in the language, we call poems ha-cegĭtodag, literally thoughts.” The landscape of the Southwest is a life-shaping force of the thoughts on these pages. Writers think about rain, menacing horned toads, sun, prickly pear, cholla, mesquite beans, what it means to call a desert home. One contributor, Helen J. Ramon, writes “The desert is work, but for our good/The desert is for our good.”

Review published originally with Orion Magazine: https://orionmagazine.org/2021/11/nat...

[Cheryl · Rating 3 out of 5]

You hold in your hand a book of wonder. Its pages contain the poetic expression of a people whose lives are intimately entwined with their environment. The Papago are only beginning to read and write their native language, which has no word for poetry. These ha-cegitodag are literally "thoughts," and reflect basic concerns of people everywhere: life and death, happiness and sadness, the earth and its seasons. Whether or not you are a Papago, you will be moved by the beauty of these words. They are as natural as the rain.

A book of poems/thoughts that reflect the desert and earth and what it means to be human.

Nt a hebai ep sos
ko wa wud g ñ-cewagig, am ñ-ai
am ge s-wa'usim si:bañ
T i:ya si ce:mo'o g m-wa'aki kc am ñei
Ha'akia hewel ab ka:c, ha'akia cewagi ab ka:c,
ha'akia ha'icu kaikam
ab ka:c
Pt ab da'isc ab dahă
T ab we:nadk ab si m-ta:t
kupt a i hoink i i:bheiwa g e-hewelig
T ab we:nadk i ha i i-juccuhimk ia dagiton ñ-jewedga da:m
Heg hekaj g ñ-jewedga am ge s-ke:g wa'opagidk na:to.

And somewhere along the way I stopped again
And it was my cloud that reached me
And it was sprinkling wetly
And here I reached your rainhouse and I looked in
There lay many winds, there lay many clouds,
there lay many seeded things
And you set them down and sat upon them
And with them I touched you
And you moved and breathed your wind
And with it were doing things
Here you dropped it upon my land
And with that my land was sprinkled
with water and was finished.

Papago Music/Ken Hale
Whenever I see and hear the Papago Music
and the violin is played so nicely
And the bow goes back and forth so slowly,
and it seems that the strings are singing to me
so sweetly,
And the hand moves back and forth so lightly,
and it seems as if the singing bow is speaking to me,
And it seems to cause my heart to beat with joy,
just like the saguaro's heart when the rain
finally comes,
Where ever the Papago Music goes,
I will follow it and listen to it and I will
always be a happy person.

[Paul Mena · Rating 5 out of 5]

If I have any critique of this collection of Tohono O'odham and Pima poetry, it's that there isn't nearly enough of it! What I did read, however, was some beautifully simple poetry celebrating life in the desert in a vibrant community.

[Laurel · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolute treat.