domingo, 12 de junho de 2011



The great Wind Spirit is rushed, to run around the world, to blow it´s message to all people´s ears 
 "Take our voice to the four corners of the world"
EARTH is SOURCE of LIFE but it needs our HELP to survive !
One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.

JUNE, 8, 2011 - BRAZIL 

The sun woke me dancing on my face. 
In the morning, crossed the hollow straw and played with my sleepy eyes. 
Brother Wind, messenger of the Great Spirit blew my name, shaking the leaves outside.  
I'm Mutua, chief of the Xavante people.
In our language, Xingu mean good water, clean water. 
It´s the name of our sacred river.
As noise of the snake, the Wind announced danger. 
My heart weighed like ripe jackfruit, throat called for water.  I've heard. 
The Great Spirit of the forest was angry.
Xingu river bathes the whole forest with the water of life.
He brings joy and happiness on the faces of our people and our children.
Xingu brings food for our people.


 But today our people are sad.
Xingu was sentenced to death. 
The chiefs of the white men will kill our river. 
The cry of the Wind says that once such a power plant comes to our land. It´s name is BELO MONTE DAM . 
In the village of Altamira, they will build the dam. 
They  will take a lot of land, more than they did over there, in the Panama Canal.
 While flood the rainforest on one side, they hold the water in another. 
Xingu river will run more slowly. 
The forest will dry around. 
The animals will die. 
It will decrease the spawning fish.
And if still it have any life, it will be so sad as the Indians.

Like a great silver snake, sliding on the Xingu and Mato Grosso, refreshing the entire forest, 
Xingu river go far away to Amazonas river and feed other people away.
If the XINGU river dies, we will die too, as the animals, the rainforest, and the trees! All the fish will die.
 I learned that from my father, the great chieftain Aritana, I taught how to catch the fish in the water, using the arrow, to have our food.
If Xingu River dies, the Indian boys of the future will sleep forever in the past, leading the singing of the wisdom of our people to the bottom of the river of blood.
By morning, the wind took me to the forest.
The great Wind Spirit is rushed, to run around the world, to blow it´s message to all people´s ears, to let them know that the soul of nature is in the ears of other shamans. 
But the white man was deaf a long time ago, they cannot hear the  Wind.
I spoke with the Forest, the Wind, the Sky and the Xingu.  I understand the language of the monkey, the jaguar, monkey, anteater, tapir and armadillo.
The Sun, the Moon and Earth are sacred to us.
When an Indian born, it becomes part of Mother Nature. Our forefathers, many who died by the hands of white men, are sacred to my people.
It is true that after the white man came, the red man was never the same. 
He brought the spirit of disease, the flu that killed our people.
And the spirit of greed that stole our trees and killed our animals.
In the past, we were millions.
Today, we are only five thousand Indians on the edge of the Xingu River , we do not know for how long.
In the forest, we still managed to plant cassava, which is our staple food, along with the fish.  With it, we make the tapioca. 
There is a legend that Cassava was born from the white body of a beautiful Indian girl, buried in a hollow by the tears of sorrow of their parents fallen on the ground that kept him.
The sun woke me dancing on my face.
And the wind brought the cry of the river that is angry.
I am brave warrior, I fear nothing.
I will walk over the alligators, I will address the boa constrictor's embrace of death,  and the terrible claws of the cougar.
Above all things I will jump above everything , if they want me back.
The spirits have feelings and do not like too much to wait.
 I learned since I was a little boy, to talk to the Great Spirit of the forest. It was a rainy day, when I ran into the woods alone, and felt tingling in the feet when trodden brown seeds from the ground.
My archery followed the animals, even while I was chased by the shadows of magical beings of the forest.
The spirit of the GAVIÂO REAL (Harpy Eagle) now appears spinning with their large wings in the sky.
With a shriek asked: Who was the first to strike the body of Xingu forest?
My heart sank as pulp pequi dare not say it was the representative of the kingdom of men.
 The spirit of the Harpy Eagle says that if the artery of the Xingu River is broken because of the dam, the river will be spread throughout the land like blood and its smell will be the death.
The sun woke me playing on my face.
The day opened up and asked me the river of life.
If they kill the Xingu, see all the food turn to sand.
The majestic bird head attracted me to the meeting of the SPIRIT´s minds in the sacred forest.
Treading the old leaves off the ground carefully, because the earth is pregnant, followed the trail of the Xingu River.
I remembered that, before we went into town and I just saw on the way trees. 
         Now, the logger and the farmer squeezed by the Indian River with the cultivation of crops and pastures for cattle dipped in poison. 
 The land is spoiled.
After killing our forests, our animals, fouling our rivers and bring down our trees, they want to kill Xingu River .
 The sun woke me playing on my face.
And on the way the river passed through the Great Tree and a red sap slid by its node. Who tore the skin of our mother? "Groaned the old lady in a deep sense of pain.
 The words were missing in my mouth.
I had to explain the evil that they will bring to earth.
Take our voice to the four corners of the world cried the Wind , slight blow up the shells of ears fanned friends last, using the ancient language, while leaves on top were struggling.
 Our people tried to scream against the affairs of white men. 
We take our people to speak to chief of the white man. 
 The chiefs of Xingu people traveled to Brasilia worried and angry.
I was there and saw it all happen.
The white chiefs hide theirselves.
They do not want to look straight into our eyes.
They say that they looked, but no one of us was heard.
 The white man must know that nothing will grow if we do not have reverence for life and nature.
Everything that happens here will fly with the wind, that has no boundaries.
One day it will fall as heat and suffering to other people far away from here, all over the world.
 The time of the TRUTH has arrived and there a mission in every star that shines on the waves of the Xingu River.
I am ready to unravel its mysteries, both in the world of men and nature.
I am Mutua the chief and leader of my people, and this is my word!
This is my dance! 
And this is my song!
Spokesperson of our tradition, we will strengthen.
 House of Prayers, we will strengthen.
Silkworm Spirit, we will strengthen.
Maracá, we will strengthen. 
Wind, we will strengthen.
Earth, let's strengthen. 
Xingu River!
Let's empower ourselves!
Take my message in your waves throughout the world :
 EARTH is SOURCE of LIFE, but it needs our help to give LIFE and make everything GROW . 
When you spot a bright reflection in the waters of any river, lake or sea, it is the message of regret from Xingu River, clamoring for LIFE . "
A letter from Chief Mutua, Xingu, Pará, Brazil, June 8, 2011





Chief Seattle'sLETTER TO ALL 
December, 1854

Photograph of Chief Seattle
Chief Seattle (more correctly known as Seathl) was a Susquamish chief who lived on the islands of the Puget Sound. As a young warrier, Chief Seattle was known for his courage, daring and leadership. He gained control of six of the local tribes and continued the friendly relations with the local whites that had been established by his father. His now famous speech was believed to have been given in December, 1854. There are several versions of his letter; the following was provided by Barefoot Bob.
Chief Seattle's Letter

"The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.

The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.

Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.

As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.

One thing we know - there is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We ARE all brothers after all."

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