Índio do Brasil

I am a canoe in these waters
I am the sap of these forests
And the flutter of a hummingbird's wings

I lived in complete harmony with nature
But on a sad day, the invading white man
Stepped on my sacred ground
Fading the green of the forests
Mining the bed of these rivers

It's been five centuries of exploitation
But the resistance still pulses in my heart
In the Marajoara pottery, in the Sateré paddle
In the Ka'apor featherwork, in the Kadiwéu painting
In the muiraquitã of the icamiaba

In the Makú blowgun, in the Mundurukú bow
In the Tupinambá mantle, in the Kamayurá arrow
In the Dessana prayer

Sing, Indian of Brazil
Sing, Indian of Brazil
Sing, Indian of Brazil
Sing, Indian of Brazil

Anauê nhandeva, anauê hei, hei, hei
Anaue nhandeva anaue hei, hei, hei

You are the gentle mother of the sons of this land, beloved homeland Brazil