By Ivonne Sheen
I asked some of the directors from the Sinais Latin America Section to share a song related to their films and their feelings and thoughts. Then, guided by randomness and intuition, I composed a long poem resulting from the technique of cut-up, textual loop and remix.
I saw a cocoi heron
A breath for Pachamama
Yesterday evening I washed it Waning (oh oh oh oh)
Giving fight to a river
But you’ll have to get used to it in Abya Yala.
Dark glasses so that when she comes, she explodes
Along a moonlit path
I’m heading back up the waters.
Moon, moon, full moon
They’re waiting for a slip to put me in the cage.
If they haven’t thought about it
One has to land, but the trip is good, hey.
It is the light of the stars
Neither crazy nor healthy, nor old, nor changa
And she is dressed in foam.
I ask for luck, health to protect me
I’m heading back up the waters.
That’s enough for me, sudaka mi aka
I’m singing along the river
Alone by myself I will make you forget her.
Sacred coca leaf, little mother, help me
Let them fall asleep little by little
And I sing with my soul.
Original, transcendental, traditional
Your heart with mine
I come with my soul and find calm
The land is ours
Today they are not going to steal my breeze,
It’s yours and theirs
It crosses over the wings like the condor in the mountains, bygone energies,
To someone who doesn’t want to hear
But you’ll have to get used to it in Abuya Yala.
Because I haven’t seen cloudiness
Nor have I known bitterness.
What they give us is ours
While the moon bathes;
Rebel with a cause
In the River Calle Calle
Moon, moon, full moon
It’s yours and theirs
My boat sails on the river:
On a silver path
Waning
My clothes are clean
If I’m bothering with my singing
Mapuche and Aymara, sisters of the Inti Marka
The land is ours
And I was surprised,
In the water there are drawn
Cosmic views and weeping
Pedro’s and María’s, Juan’s and José’s
I ask if on earth
While the evening falls asleep;
Along a moonlit path
A desalambrar, take the fences down!
Let’s get out of this place, baby.
A desalambrar, take the fences down!
Sprouting, Mandala, send the bullet
Too vague for these Winka wannabe natives
I assure you it’s a gringo.
We are seeds that sprout every morning.
But they will have to get used to it in Abya Yala
The land is ours
If the hands are ours
Your heart with mine
And not with the one who has more
The moon looking on
Manas gather in the lands of Pindorama
A bathe in the sea, for no reason
I come from Niebla and Amargos.
The night sings with me
A desalambrar, take the fences down!
They’re waiting for a slip, they don’t want me free.
Many free midwives
Here with a pickaxe, the strength of Violeta Parra
She is bathing naked
Giving fight to a river
My Mantras ancestor, facing the Pachamama.
Songs:
- A desalambrar by Victor Jara.
- Marrona Libre by Brisa Flow & Abi Llanque.
- Tonada de Luna Llena by Simón Díaz.
- Curita by Young Miko.
- Camino de Luna by Luis Aguirre Pinto.
