What are you afraid of?

"My neighbor is hungry"

I was hungry and you fed your animals with my food.

I was hungry and your transnationals planted your winter tomatoes on our best land.

I was hungry and you wouldn’t give up your steak from South America.

I was hungry but they grew tea for you where rice might grow for my daily meal.

I was hungry but you turned our sugarcane and manioc into fuel for your cars.

I was hungry but the waste from your factories is poisoning the fishing grounds of the earth.

I was hungry but with your money, you bought up my food.

I was hungry while my land grows exotic fruits for your table.

What are you afraid of?

Forgoing excessive and harmful consumption?
Having to change your attitudes?

The power of the politicians?

The work involved in achieving greater self-sufficiency?

The disappointing looks of your neighbors?

What are you afraid of?

I was hungry but you gave me no food.

taken from Earth Keepers

by chance

song written by youth from San Miguel

¿Acaso eres tú q’ a los mineros enviaste?
Violentan el vientre de la Madre Tierra.
Llevan el oro, destruyendo los cerros.
Un gramo de sangre vale mas de mil kilos de oro.

¿Qué pasa con mi pueblo?
Y tu, mi Dios, ¿Dónde te escondes?
El miedo nos paraliza.
Mi pueblo esta vendido y no se de cuenta.

El agua se agota, tiene color de infierno.
Se levanta el aire ya contaminado.
Buscamos milagros – a última hora,
Buscando sanar a los enfermos y danos mortales.

Un pueblo pobre es fácil comprarlos.
Regalos apagan sospechas y dudas.
Los sueldos se llevan las cantinas del pueblo,
Hogares oscuros quedan y dividida mi gente.

Creaste un jardín – y no un desierto.
Queremos progreso con respeto al ambiente.
El hambre de oro come más y más tierra.
Y, Tú mí Dios, te preguntas:
¿Qué esta haciendo mí pueblo?

By chance is it you who sent the miners?
They violate the womb of Mother Earth.
They take the gold, destroying the hills.
One gram of blood is worth more than a thousand kilograms of gold.

What’s happening with my people?
And you, my God, where have you hidden?
We are paralyzed by fear.
My people have been sold and they don’t realize it.

The water is depleted; it is the color of hell.
The air rises, now contaminated.
We search for miracles at the last minute.
Seeking to heal the sick and the mortal damages.

It is easy to buy a poor people.
Gifts turn away suspicions and doubts.
The towns’ bars eat up salaries.
Homes remain in darkness, my people divided.

You created a garden and not a desert.
We want progress that respects the environment.
The hunger for gold eats more and more land.
And you, my God, ask yourself:
What are my people doing?