I am the Earth

 

I donít remember my birth,

nobody knows,

nobody was.

 

I came to life from nothing,

just a little dust

that fled and lost.

 

I turn and turn

around myself,

around the sun.

Iím part of the galaxy:

in a hurry voyaging,

in nowhere arriving.

 

Iím a balloon full of life.

I breathe from the trees,

from grass and flowers.

 

But something is changing.

 

They cover my bronchus with cement,

they fill my entrails with poison.

 

I cannot die and my body,

mishmash of good and worst,

shall give birth to different life,

shall never turn to be the same.

 

I am ill, very ill.

I cough and cough,

vomit lava and blood.

 

That force that created me

shakes me, inundates me,

blows hurricanes and typhoons

in a desperate intent to heal my body.

 

Man, my new born, my child,

is playing with my genes.

Heís so young, he doesnít know

that heís playing him to die.

 

I am the Earth, I am his mother;

 

I try to impeach his play to reach.

But the wound is too deep,

the illness too important,

and my powers are flying away.

 

I am the Earth, I am your mother.

Donít you see I love you so?

Give me back the trees, the grass and the flowers.

Let me breathe again,

and you will see how fertile is my breast;

and you will see how I shall nurse you

until the end of the times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


May the 9th , 1999

 

 

 

 

††