The hot west wind came sweeping over sun parched
Rippled grasses rolled, an endless sea,
Here among her people lived the lovely lubra,
Bralgah, comely daughter of the tribe Wiradgeri.
A gifted, graceful dancer, every heart was
By her skilful twirling - her slender beauty drew
All eyes in admiration, but the old folk feared
The dreaded jealousy of Wurrawilberoo.
Bralgah often wandered far from friendly camp
Joyously cavorting, bending to the breeze,
The whirlwinds watched and waited, their anger
Spiteful red dust devils spun about the wilga
One fateful day they seized her, Bralgah and her
Carried them both swiftly to their country far
Planned to slay the old one and hold the maiden
Forced to dance before them for their pleasure
Wiradjuri were wailing, such misery beset them,
Bitter ash of sorrow on their bodies, in their
They called for kindly spirits to save the stolen
Brave warriors went searching, armed with ready
The wily women managed to evade their hated
Desperately running, the camp within full view,
Frenzied, twisting, roaring; the whirlwinds swept
Wiradjurie's best fighting men met Wurrawilberoo.
Grim battle raged across the country; the fury
Were defeated by magicians,
each a powerful
Bralgah and her mother crouching deep in stunted
Trembled with dark horror at the dreadful combat
A dust cloud rose in spirals as the wicked winds
A last faint howling echoed until the heavens
The old woman sat rocking empty arms, alone and
Grieving for her daughter - she had disappeared!
Across the glowing plainsland a tall, grey bird
Such a bird the elders had never seen or known,
Stepping stately circles in familiar well loved
Wiradjuri all welcomed their beloved Bralgah home.
We can still see lovely Bralgah dance with her
Shining wings uplifted as she leaps toward the
The beauty of the brolgas, a corroboree of
A legend of her people forever handed on.