TEXT I

Old Indian

They’ve already taken our hide
and our blood,
they’ve already raffled off our land
with all its sacred names
(and left it stripped to the bone).
Insatiable, now they trade us in
for beef.
No to the sap of agro-business!

No to a fate of agro-death!
No to Kindle in a world without kin!
The flora moans,
the fauna moans,
the mercury-rich river moans.
It is the forest that clothes the Indian.
Leave us the little that remains!
Flowers cannot sprout from flames.
Salgado Maranhão
Tradução: Alexis Levitin

(Maranhão, SALGADO. Tradução: Alexis. Disponível em:
https://www.nytimes.com/ interactive/2020/10/02/opinion/amazonforest-
poetry.html. Acesso em: 12 set. 2022.)