From Amazonia to New York

Tree from you I have taken the wild pain

those cries, in the air in the river

Animals flee from the shelter of your branches

deafening noises of monkeys and araras

the upright trunk, falls as it blackens.

The sloth moves slowly, quietly

the ariranha and the tamanduá

ears pricked at each sound

trees tell their stories

life when it is submerged

underwater among the fish

feeding off fruit

already at sunset noises get louder

stunned birds cry out

in the trees

the jaburus the macucus the inhambu.

in the underbrush the wind is still

long ago in a time of vibrant,

pubescent colours, water-swollen

today is yellow, green at the beginning.

bones, pieces of wood, thousands of insects

They light a blinding fire

who can pull out this headless arrow?

where can that evil be deposed?

everywhere on earth

noises interfere, memories of the dead

the sky that accompanies us today

has no stars.

will the face of pain disappear?

vibrations make air fertile thunder booms and lightning flashes Everything blazes: Shower of blossoms mangabas, cajú waves of breeze the giant trees in the forest know a tongue of fire that destroys them before by the great river cobras would appear, boicininga, jiboias, alligators, the jaguar, the yellow-brown lynx, the branches crowded with parrots iguana, irara, an the sloth jabutí, the bog turtle the caititú, the chestnut-haired boar the shrieks of the crying monkeys the voices of thousands of birds. the outline of memory takes shape: it is waves the wood lives along with the fire. everything is flying: bird-leaves leaf-butterflies colour-light on the tree-tops the black eyes, the power of condor tanato, the small gull a bird-nest his house that fluttering among the boughs it is his wings nothing hinders. The forest keeps falling the cries the wars, the dead A ravine, a smoke halo nothing breathes precious bird, alive and singing turn on a world of visions with your song rare fruits do not open to ripen the soul of the forest takes hold of the universe trees show their entrails the body, the sprouts covered with green grains the roots, the oblong leaves with nervatures and veins and the little animals, the humming-birds dance zechirino, cross the country of the shadows the wind among the leaves starts making itself heard it confounds itself with other echoes capeba whos born from the waters feels its leaves licked by the fire it buckles, all swollen and wounded it breathes: life is still here still for a while, keep on breathing, do not stop breathe, breathe, keep going still here the origin of life

II

Metallic trees full of gold and silver they touch the clouds, and your dreams. A metallic bird crosses the sky flying flying, goes on goes on, where where? the metallic bird becomes an arrow breaks down the crystal trees the face of pain hurls its cry running down the walls. I want to remember various stories memories of unburied dead Names are born, offerings to those who left and the heart of the giant tree crumbles and reassembles, endless matter A cloud of dust waves inside the body of the wind its voice is piercing. The greediness of the fire pierces through the roots of the sun suffocating black clouds red-hot clouds over the world a roar of engines, saws, axes Music and forlorn imaginary circles clouds and yellow dust moving From the broken tree-trunks metal fragments burst out asbestos threads, blood runnels, souls. From the Hudson Bay dolphins call for light and harmony the beginning of a new way of thinking an army of ants in a row is carrying off its leaves like souls.