They polluted the waters of the Ipiranga River
Between you and meThey’ve dirtied the waters of the Ipiranga...They’ve polluted its peaceful banks Those schizophrenic and irrational factories... The beloved motherland, gentle mother,Does not belong to the children she boreIt belongs to the fewThe gentle motherlandDamn it allAnd tell the laurel-green of that bannerThat we are Black, that we are mixed-raceThat we are realThat we are the mixed-race people, with pride...The country is a manly, fearless colossusAnd the people gnaw at the boneFrom a heroic people, the resounding cryIs just an ideal and beautiful shout, on the poor concrete slabsVarious hungers—hunger is realInequality is realThe blackmail of capital is real....In the sky above our homeland, at this very moment, there are liesYour bosom of freedom has allowed itself to be conquered by transnational capital....And the sun of freedom? In dazzling rays?Not a chance… we are slaves to incompetence, slaves to corruptionWe are slaves to absurdityIdolized illusions…Idolized bread and circuses and sex…Lying eternally in a splendid cradleA splendid and barren cradle...To the children of this land, you are a gentle motherTo submissive childrenUpon your wings of chaos from fierce and merciless capital...A blow to my national heartHail, hail! The oligarchyThe absurd, childish prostitutionocracyHail, hail! The luxocracy shining in the retinas of a needy peopleHail, hail! The absurdocracyHail, hail! The mechanical iron fist on beautiful, televised faces... Beloved land, do you remember my bare feet?Beloved land, I still know your taste and your scent to this day......Adored landWhere does the image of the cross shine?In luxurious rooms, or in shacks?Where does the image of the cross shine?In the thirsty eyes of your people? They polluted the banks of the IpirangaThe gentle motherland has gone madThe resounding cry has fallen silentThe breasts of freedom have dried upThe image of the cross does not shine; it is forgottenAn undaunted, skeletal colossusYour beautiful, smiling, clear sky—now polluted and distant...
**“They Polluted the Waters of Ipiranga”** is a poem of social criticism that contrasts the idealized image of Brazil with the contradictions of its reality. By reworking verses and imagery from the **Brazilian National Anthem**, the poem transforms patriotic symbols into tools for questioning social inequality, capitalism, corruption, poverty, the concentration of wealth, and national identity.
This use of patriotic language to reveal social conflicts aligns the poem with a long tradition of **Brazilian protest and social poetry**. From the political criticism found in **Gregório de Matos**, through **Brazilian Modernism**, and in the works of authors such as **Carlos Drummond de Andrade**, Brazilian literature has frequently employed irony, parody, and subversion to challenge the country’s power structures and contradictions.
This approach also engages with the tradition of **satire**, in which established symbols, discourses, and values are distorted to expose what normally remains hidden. Here, “Ipiranga,” the “gentle motherland,” the “resounding cry,” and the “dauntless colossus” cease to represent merely an idealized Brazil and instead confront a country marked by inequality and exclusion.
Between indignation and emotional memory, the poem also reclaims an intimate connection with the Brazilian land. The country appears simultaneously as a beloved homeland and as a place of neglect, revealing the contrast between national discourse and the daily experience of a large portion of its people.
Thus, **“They Polluted the Waters of Ipiranga”** is a poem about Brazil, but also about the conflict between the imagined country and the real one.
Comments
No comments yet.