Great Spirit and maker of all life,
a warrior goes to You swift and straight as an arrow shot into the sun.
Welcome him and let him take his place at the council fire of my people.
He is Uncas...
my son.Tell him to be patient and ask death for speed,
for they are all there but one,
I, Chingachgook,
the last of the Mohicans.The frontier moves with the sun
and pushes the Red Man of these wilderness forests in front of it...
Until one day there will be nowhere left.
Then our race will be no more,
or be not us.The frontier place is for people like my white son and his woman...
and their children.
And one day there will be no more frontier.And men like you will go, too,
like the Mohicans.
And new people will come, work, struggle.Some will make their life.
But once...
we were here.
Sunt cuvintele pe care le rosteste seful de trib Chingachgook, ultimul dintre mohicani, dupa moartea fiului sau. Emotionant moment in finalul filmului "The Last of the Mohicans", cand vorbele unui batran cuprind, intr-o rostire, viata multor generatii ale tribului sau.
Triburile bastinase din cele doua Americi au disparut. Au fost atatea generatii inaintea noastra si mesajele lor s-au pierdut in negura vremurilor. Ne uitam perplecsi la Piramidele si Sfinxul din Egipt, la pietrele de la Stonehenge, la statuile Moai din America de Sud sau la vestigiile civilizatiei Mayase si nu intelegem nimic. Nu putem citi hieroglifele, incercam sa ghicim scopul diverselor asezaminte prin raportarea la pozitia soarelui si nascocim teorii din ce in ce mai fanteziste pentru a explica constructia si scopul lor.
Ne-am indepartat prea mult de Dumnezeu pentru a intelege lucruri pe care, la vremea lor, oamenii le intelegeau mai usor. Acum suntem miliarde, dar nu mai e mult pana vom fi foarte putini. Dupa Kali Yuga vor exista doar cei care inteleg.