Mural with Pedro Casaldaliga (far left)
Let us summon the petals
of all the accents sometimes fratricide
to a single rose called
Amerindian America, Afroamerica,
Mass of the Quilombos
We are coming from the depths of the earth,
We are coming from the bosom of night,
Of the flesh under the lash we are made
We have come to remember.
We are coming from death out at sea,
We are coming from the packed holds of ships;
We are heirs of melancholy
We have come to weep….
We are coming from the old slave quarters,
We are coming from the new favelas;
We are the outcasts of the world
We have come to dance.
We are coming from the land of the
We are coming to the beating of drums;
We are the new Palmares
We have come to struggle.
Pedro Casaldaliga, In Pursuit of the Kingdom, 67-68