For as long as the waters flow,
for as long as the rivers run,
my country will be here for me.
No matter how far I travel,
or how long I am gone,
I can always come home.
one day I will come home,
to my country,
I have the unwavering confidence of the river.
The water cycle is an eternal loop; unending.
The waters travel the ocean, the sky and back to the river.
I can go overseas, travel the world.
But, I will eventually come home,
to my country, my river.
My river flows through my veins.
I can walk for days, never feeling lost.
my country and river always awaiting my return.
There are two great rivers that nourish our continent.
They have come together in my country for 100 million years.
For 100 generations and more our footprints have been on their banks.
We respect and sustain the land and the waters.
In return they nourish and sustain us.
The river brings everything our people need.
It brings us fresh water.
It brings us steady food.
It brings trade and travel.
Just as our children grow and develop,
our culture has grown, on the riverbank.
We always have been, we always will be, here.
One day I will be too old to swim,
Too old to walk and fish,
But the river will keep flowing.
One day and forever more, I will rest here,
with my children and their children
and their children’s children.
We will rest our bones in these lands,
along the banks of these rivers.
Yet, the water Will continue to flow.
In 100 thousand years,
when people no longer live here,
we will be here.
We will continue to be a part of the dust,
a part of the soil and the sand,
that fills the banks and flows through the rivers.
The voices of my ancestors will always be heard,
whispering in their sleeping tongues,
when the breeze caresses the river reeds.
This is the essence of my culture.
For as long as the rivers flow,
my people will always be here.
Today… My river has stopped flowing
For as long as the waters flowed,
for as long as the rivers had run,
I always knew my country would be here.
For the first time,
I feel alone.
I am lost.
Where could the waters have gone,
that they could not come back again?
The cycle of water, of life, is broken.
My River Is DEAD.
How could this be true?
How can something with no beginning
ever have an ending?
My river has been swallowed up,
by an unquenchable thirst, called greed.
No puddles, no ponds, no billabongs, no lakes.
They just took it.
They used it,
they wasted it.
Until it was gone.
They did not even drink the water.
Our bellies got thinner and thinner.
The river got shallower and shallower.
They sent it overseas,
To other countries,
As wine, rice, cotton and fruit.
When this did not satiate their greed,
They used the rest for mining.
They built wells for gas and poisoned the water.
The gas leaked and poisoned the land.
Now there are dust storms,
That blanket the sky,
and hide the sun.
The fish have gone.
The yabbies are gone.
The fires have come.
I have lost my confidence.
I cannot see the future.
How much longer will we be here?
In my lifetime,
I saw the river die.
What do we do now?