This black? The black skin is wisdom
The skin free your world it's your doom
Don't be shy, ashamed, or fear as a black
Takes your heavy world, design it in back
Your bones are strong, strong like a stones
They can't take the world with their bones
If colour is like black of the middle night
The colour is still black, strong as knight
Their white was design by blood and flesh
Their flesh and mortal world were not fresh
Look! Like a milk in the hand of black colour,
Fresh milk takes lengthy eon stain in the flour
Laugh as you wish immortal world is still alive
As you are black, smile and sharp your knives
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem