Tonight, in kallakulta
The walls resound the powerful orations of afrobeat
Along the forgotten corridors of time
Hoping that they sip true the cracks of continuous reality
Tonight in Nigeria;
A middle aged man gets high
On the afrodosiac nostalgia of his childhood
As he sings and sways to the rhythm
Tonight in Biafra;
A little boy crosses the rite of passage
Through the melody on his old man's lips
Rediscovering the immortal wisdom of the African soul
Tonight on black earth
The revolution is kept alive
In bytes, bits and beats
Though tonight,
The symphonies of enlightenment
Have given way to sex laden worship
Of dancehall musicals
The revolution will not die
The revolution has death in it's pocket
The revolution will live on! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem