Darkness that dawns by the wall of the

Voices

A river, tears of women

They raise children of all ages!

The image has a name

That you don't want to name ...

How far did they walk today?

Hope becomes eternal

Pregnant Memory,

The sun rose at midnight!

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.

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.