AFRICA

AFRICA MY AFRICA
Africa my africa
Africa of
proud warriors in ancestral savannahs
Africa of whom my grand mother sings
On the bank of distant rivers
I have never known you but your blood flows
through my veins
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the field
The
blood of your sweat
The sweat of your work
The work of your slavery
The slavery of your children
Africa tell me Africa
Is this you this
back that is bent ?
This back that weighs under the weights of
humilation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying 'yes' to the whip
under the mid_day sun
But a grave voice answers me
'Impetous son,that tree
young and strong that tree there
In splendid loneliness admist white and
faded flowers
That is Africa your Africa
That grows patiently
obstinately
And its fruits gradually acquires
The bitter taste of
liberty