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Puñuylla wawa puñuylla
Puñuylla waway puñuylla
Tan sólo duerme mi niño tan sólo duerme
Kikilla wawa kikilla
Samaylla waway samaylla
Tan sólo descansa mi niño tan sólo descansa
Tsakmak rikuna kanika
Chakmaq rikunay kanqa
Tengo que ir a labrar la tierra
Michik rikuna kanika
Michiq rikunay kanqa
Tengo que ir a pastorear
Aya shamunkami wawa
Aya hamunqan waway
Ha de venir el espíritu mi niño
Kuku shamunkami wawa
Kukuchi hamunqan waway
Ha de venir el mal mi niño
Wakakukta uyashpaka
Waqakuqta uyarispaqa
Si te escuhca llorando
“Haku ñukawan” ninkami
“Haku noqawan” ninqan
“Vamos conmigo” ha de decir
Kanlla rikpika wawalla
Qanlla ripuqtiykiqa wawallay
Y si tan sólo tú te vas mi niño
Kanlla rikpika ishulla
Qanlla ripuqtiykiqa churillay
Y si tan sólo tú te vas mi hijo
Piwanchari parlakusha
Piwanchári parlakusaq
Con quien voy a conversar, no lo sé
Piwanchari asikusha
Piwanchári asikusaq
Con quien voy a reír, no lo sé
Maypichari tarikusha
Maypichári tarikusaq
En donde (te) encontraré, no lo sé
Maypichari hapikusha
Maypichári hapikusaq
En donde (te) hallaré, no lo sé
Ñuka asik wawitulla
Noqawan asiq wawachallay
Mi niño con quien me rio
Ñuka pukllak wawitulla
Noqawan pukllaq wawachallay
Mi niño con quien juego.

12_2_Madre_quechua_tcm83-58512 12-peru-05-cuzco-quechua-indians  4972217152_09600010a3_z

Renata Flores Rivera, a 14 year-old Peruvian has become a social media sensation for her covers of well-known songs in the Quechua language. The video of her version of “The Way You Make Me Feel”, by the late Michael Jackson, was filmed at the Inca ruins of Vilcashuamán in Ayacucho, Peru and has been viewed more than half a million times on YouTube.

With seven million speakers, Quechua is the second-most spoken language in the Americas. In Peru it is considered an official language along with Spanish even though only about 19% of the population speaks Quechua.

Renata’s mother, Patricia Rivera, works for the Asociación Cultural Surca(Surca Cultural Association), a program that aims to teach adolescents from Ayacucho about drug prevention and the Andean region’s ancestral language. Renata was part of their initiative. Thanks to her mother, “the youth also speak Quechua.”

(From Wikipedia)  Machu Picchu (in hispanicized spelling, Spanish pronunciation: [ˈmatʃu ˈpiktʃu]) or Machu Pikchu (Quechua machu old, old person, pikchu peak; mountain or prominence with a broad base which ends in sharp peaks,[1] “old peak” 2,430 metres (7,970 ft) above sea level.[2][3] It is located in the Cusco Region, Urubamba Province, Machupicchu District in Peru.[4] It is situated on a mountain ridge above the Sacred Valley which is 80 kilometres (50 mi) northwest of Cuzco and through which the Urubamba River flows. Most archaeologists believe that Machu Picchu was built as an estate for the Inca emperor Pachacuti (1438–1472).

….Machu Picchu has become the largest tourist attraction in South America.  It is located on the northeast corner of the area designated with a 5 found on the map below.  (Pink area designates Quechua language prominence in an area.)

Most of the outlying buildings have been reconstructed in order to give tourists a better idea of what the structures originally looked like.[5] By 1976, thirty percent of Machu Picchu had been restored.[5]The restoration work continues to this day.[6]  


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Joan of Arc

I know this now. Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing yet they give their lives to that little or nothing. One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. And then it is gone. But to sacrifice what you are and live without belief, that's more terrible than dying.--

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August 2015



On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

John O'Donohue, Echoes of Memory