Quechua Diaspora

Kawsaq

Imprison my flesh, if you want,
Harm my heart, if you want,
Tear away my hair, if you want,
Tie my hands and feet, if you want.

Perhaps,
Maybe you do not stop
Until you see my body rot.

If it is going to be like that,
Only my worms will take me to my mother Pachamama.

I will be there too!

I will feed the trees
with my rotting skin.

Yes,
I will grow fruit in any plant
So that my brothers
So that my sisters
Will be fed.

And, then my brothers,
And then my sisters
They will be strengthened
With my rebirth.

And, likewise,
I will scream
In the voices of my brother and sister:

“Yes! I’m Quechua!”

Do what you want!
Do what you want!

But, Never ever
Will you take away
who I am.