We speak acknowledging the word carried by the wind

With the mandate of that which is ancient and that which is present,

We were germinated by the rain,

We watch, seeing ourselves in the leaf of the tree that cradled us all

Music will be the staff brought by the peoples,

Silence for the father of all the fires – the Sun,

Visible tasks of the Being and Doing,

Infinite renewal of the nourished altars,

Honoured Mother Earth

We have not left,

We return with the only vital offer,

Our Heart.

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In this blind present, Complete but blind and mute, When we have been denied a part of our body, We have been denied the parcel of land that we are. The soul shrinks, Before vast life, Invisible lives,  Motion of all, Our smallness is a fact. Ancient volcano, You are not old, Your children shall bring, The fire from  Your center.

A butterfly wing bearing the ant, Joined in the opening Bodies of land, bodies of wind, Shut these words,  cut the eyes From the punishing signal. My heart reminds me,  That I shall cry From your embrace Extinguished embers. I ask as a human being, I ask... Where is the blood flower of my mother, Where is the tree, path to my house, Where is the scythe that blinded the landscape  Where the horror keeps The hope.

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En este presente ciego, Completo pero ciego y mudo, Cuando nos han negado una parte de nuestro cuerpo, Nos han negado la parcela de tierra que somos. El alma se encoge, Ante la grande vida, Vidas invisibles, Tráfico de todos, Es un hecho nuestra poquedad. Antiguo volcán, No estás viejo, Los niños traerán, El fuego desde Tu centro.

Ala de mariposa lleva la hormiga, Se junta con el orificio, Cuerpos tierras, cuerpos vientos, Cierra estas palabras, corta los ojos De la señal castigadora. Me recuerda mi corazón, Que he de llorar De tu abrazo Brasa apagada. Yo como humano pregunto, pregunto... Dónde está la sangre flor de mi madre, Dónde el árbol, camino de mi casa, Dónde está la guadaña que cegó el paisaje, Dónde el espanto guarda La esperanza.