Peru

Herder (Michiq)

You see nothing more than two-hundred animals,
identical.
Yet I can recognize each by her laughter.
And yes of course they laugh.
They intertwine their necks with the wind and they dance.

In the desolate, forbidding mountains
on the dark and silent paths
daily we walk together
sometimes they, sometimes I,
lead the march.

Like Bach’s sorrowful hymns
they dissipate…
Sometimes swiftly, sometimes placidly
until upon us, the night descends.

And when the appointed day arrives
to Mother Earth I shall express my gratitude
to my dear animal, my appreciation,
and I will slaughter her.
I won’t waste a single drop of her blood…

Only we know of this exhortation
Only we know who we are
and although we shall cry knowing all of this, so shall we rejoice.

In the silent, distant meadows,
I am a herder.

Herding Sheep is More than Chasing Stars

Our dear sheep are grains of amaranth
scattered upon your heart
stars that shine in your arms.

In the blue, fog-draped fields
near the silvery-gold lagoon
having descended from the sky,
they are grazing.

Just the mist, just the wind.
Our dreams are illusory…
To herd sheep in faraway lands
is more than chasing stars

Mitmaq

Purini purinki purinchik…
runa tiyasqan pachamanqa
puriqllam hamurqanchik.

Llullu wiqinchikmantaraqmi
kunununuq ninapa qapariyninpi
musquyninchikpa iklliriq takinpi
puriyta qallarirqanchik.

Purisun, purisunhinalla.
Samananchik punchawqa…
La mar-qucha patanpi
aqullam suyawachkanchik.

Musquy

Chirikuq wasi punkupi
qamya tantata mikuchkaspaymi
warmallaraq kaspay
churmichawaq musquyta yuyarirqani:
“Mayu… yuraq pusuquykihina
muyurispa muyurispa
qanwan kuskalla chinkakuyman…
Wayra… yanayasqa alambrehina
sukarispa sukarispa
yupillaypas ripukunman…”

“Beee! Beeee! Beeee!”

Wakchaschay chitaschay:
Wakcha kananchiktaqa
manamá yachakurqanchikchu.
Anchuykamuy asuykamuy
qanwanqa tantapas icha miskinman.

“Beee! Beeee! Beeee!”

Wakchaschay chitaschay:
Tinyachallaypa sunqunpas
kunanqa rumiyarqunñam…
Qipa urqukunapipas
ritisqa ñanllañam waqapakuchkan.