Where it is the arvoredo? It disappeared. Where it is the water? It disappeared. It is the end of the life and the beginning dasobrevivncia. How it is that if it can buy or vender the sky, the heat daterra? This Idea in them seems a little stranger. If we do not possess the coolness to donate and the brightness of the water, as it is possible to buy them. Each land piece is sacred for my people.
Each ramobrilhante of a pine, each sand handful of beaches, the dense nafloresta penumbra, each bare place and insect to buzz are sacred in the memory eexperincia of my people. The seiva that covers the body of the trees carregaconsigo the souvenirs of the red man This shining water that drains in the streams and not apenas rivers water, but the blood of our ancestor. If them to vendermos the land, vocs they must remember that it is sacred, and must teach to its crianasque it is sacred and that each consequence in limpid waters of the lakes says to deacontecimentos and souvenirs of the life of my people. The grumble of waters is the ancestral vozdos my. The rivers are our brothers, saciam our headquarters.
Them they rioscarregam our canoes and they feed our children. If them to vendermos nossaterra, vocs must remember and teach for its children who the rivers are nossosirmos and its also. E, therefore, vocs must, to give to the rivers the goodness would quededicariam to any brother. We know that the white man does not understand ours customs. A portion of land, for it, has the same meant that any another one, pois an outsider who comes at night and extracts of the land everything that needs. The land, for it, she is not its sister, but its enemy and, when it conquest, extracting of it what he desires, continues its way.