By THIAGO IRAPORANGA*
You who listen to me
know that I am here before you
With my body
I fed generations
I transformed the desert
in their thirsty mouths
in a source of relief
I washed your ancestors' clothes
I know every detail
from your great-grandmothers' petticoats
I played with all beings
Who came to visit me
I taught the first strokes
With the movements of my waters
What are the muscles in my body
I led the fish that were born in me
For deeper waters
I witnessed couples in love,
Who celebrated life and love,
On my shores,
This when they weren't with me
Sharing the voluptuousness of your desires
For a while,
the diamonds on my bed,
were his object of greed,
Despite the violence with which
were ripped from me,
I know your needs,
Well now I need you to stop
To listen to mine
The world has changed…
My holy body,
That quenched the thirsty, fed the hungry,
He washed the dirty, interacted with lovers and
made the miners rich
has converted
in a profane host,
Filthy body
That the water cycle,
It can no longer regenerate,
The mercury of your greed,
It contaminated my body,
I had my bed,
Pierced by the dredges of greed,
The waste from your sinks and toilets,
They were thrown without mercy,
About my body
Toxins released into your plants,
Not only do they kill them,
But they flow to me,
In this suicidal and ignoble spiral,
My body wastes away…
I divide myself into a thousand arms,
Silted,
This body begins to disappear,
Could they live?
without the flesh of my water body?
Thiago Iraporanga is a poet.
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