La mañana era fresca, los olores de la tierra húmeda se confundían con los sonidos de cientos de animales. El perro levantaba las orejas de vez en cuando, más para ahuyentar los mosquitos que para alertar sobre algún posible peligro. La sombra de los grandes eucaliptos me daba cierta paz. Así que corté algunas hojas grandes y me escondí entre el paisaje y los sonidos.
La noche anterior vinieron disparando. Mataban todo lo que se atreviera a respirar. Los gritos dejaban el alma con tanto odio que se inundaba. Te salí por los poros. El miedo era superior. Los que podíamos escapar. Corríamos en todas direcciones. Pesaba la vida, la muerte era el tránsito a otro reino. A la distancia de un instante.
Tenía hijos que asesinaron. Una casita. Recolectaba la miel cerca de la aldea.
El aire se puso tenso. La muerte tiene ese poder mágico de perturbar la carne. Hasta el cielo se teñía de humos. Minutos antes de los primeros gritos. Los siguientes tiros. Las otras vidas arrebatadas. Se sentía la presencia de algo sobrenatural.
Ahora, solo espero. La noche es el mejor refugio para moverse. Quedamos pocos esparcidos por la gran espesura de los bosques. Nos buscan con todo el odio de siglos. Somos descendientes de indígenas. Aquí nacimos. Entre la tierra y los grillos. Queríamos tranquilidad. Nos desplazaron, tomaron nuestras tierras. Ofendieron nuestros dioses.
Nos cazan como si fuéramos una odiosa enfermedad. Pero ya es tiempo de reunirnos. Prepararnos para la guerra. Parece que quiere llover. Necesito llegar a la otra aldea. Contar todo. El perro se le erizan los pelos. Siente que la vida está a punto de escapar.
The morning was cool, the smells of the damp earth mingled with the sounds of hundreds of animals. The dog raised his ears from time to time, more to scare away the mosquitoes than to warn of any possible danger. The shade of the big eucalyptus trees gave me some peace. So I cut some large leaves and hid among the scenery and sounds.
The night before they came shooting. They killed anything that dared to breathe. The screams left the soul with so much hate that it flooded. It came out of your pores. The fear was superior. Those of us who could escape. We ran in all directions. Life was heavy, death was the transit to another realm. At the distance of an instant.
I had children who murdered. A little house. I collected honey near the village.
The air became tense. Death has that magical power to disturb the flesh. Even the sky was tinged with smoke. Minutes before the first screams. The next shots. The other lives taken. The presence of something supernatural was felt.
Now, I just wait. The night is the best refuge to move. There are few of us left scattered in the great thicket of the forests. They search for us with all the hatred of centuries. We are descendants of indigenous people. We were born here. Between the earth and the crickets. We wanted tranquility. They displaced us, they took our lands. They offended our gods.
They hunt us as if we were a hateful disease. But now it is time to gather. Prepare for war. It looks like it wants to rain. I need to get to the other village. Tell everything. The dog's hair stands on end. It feels like life is about to escape.
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
Muy bonito. De verdad!
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The worst is to be forced into a fight and to fight to survive if all you want is to live in peace and to be left alone.
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