(i)
O’ Mother Africa
Wipe away these beads of sorrow
That harrow and scorn thy lovely brow
...
In your face
Beyond the embers
That glow in you eyes
I see that day
...
With stern faces we stand
On this beckoning sand
Facing east
Praying for the deceased
...
Friends are fair flowers
That adorn
The fields of life
...
From the gloom of my nights to the light of my days
I find myself counting your countless salient ways
Could I ever imagine the pain I caused you
...
Amidst the dark walls
Of ignorance,
Your call rose, still rises,
Higher than the sun,
...
Akmal, my dear
Is this you that I see
This little ruby
Sparkling with innocence
...
O' brightest of stars
O' worthiest of praise
O' warmest of shoulders
O' my prop in distress
...
Each time I close my eyes
Images of the days gone by
Like a flood come surging
I see you emerge from the kitchen
...