Текст песни The Earth Is Our Mother

How can you buy or sell the sky?
The warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us.
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle
of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is scared to my people - every
shining pine needle, every sandy shore,
every mist in the dark woods,
every clearing and humming insect is holy in our memory
and experience. The sap which courses through the trees
carries our memories - we are part of the earth and
it is part of us. We know that the white man does not
understand our ways - one portion of the land is the
same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes
in the night and takes whatever he needs.
The earth is not his brother but his enemy and when
he has conquered it he moves on.
He leaves his father's graves behind and he does not
care. He kidnaps the earth birthright are forgotten.
He treats his mother the earth and his father the sky
as things to be bought, plundered or sold like sheep
or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth
and leave behind only a desert.
I do not know. Our ways are different from your ways.
The sight of your cities pains my eyes.Oi Polloi - The Earth Is Our Mother - http://ru.motolyrics.com/oi-polloi/the-earth-is-our-mother-lyrics.html
There is no quiet place in the white man's cities -
no place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring
or the rustle of an insects wings.
The clatter only seems to insult the ears - and what
is there to life in one cannot hear the lonely cry
of the Lapwing or the arguments of the frogs around
a pond at night? What is man without other animals?
If all the beasts were gone,
man would die from a great loneliness of spirit.
For whatever happens t othe beasts soon happens to
man - all things are connected.
Teach your children what we have taught our children:
That the earth is our mother.
Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons and daughters
of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life - he
is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web he does to himself.

The secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men.

Where is the thicket? Gone.

Where is the eagle? Gone.

The end of living - and the beginning of survival...