The black woman on the way side;
She lived by the brook of the Niger
Famished and thirsty.
Her children ridden of kwashiorkor
Whilst her many husbands sucked her breast milk to sleepass!
Oh woman of the golf of guinea,
Why sit on a lonely numb drape?
The sore sight of your thighs laden of hemorrhage:
Shall I take thee to the surgeon?
I too i'm wounded and my spirit broken!
I wished I came to you in the flower time:
Whilst your black breast was full of milk
And your lips as red berries.
I have come to you in the nights of the day!
Black woman,
With putrefying sores-
The Savannah sun thus scorched your wounds,
Oozing latrine flees perch!
Your bruised thighs tell the cold years struggles
And your face a song of abandonment:
She was raped, her rapists were her judges;
She was maimed, her maimerswere her doctors.
She's the child of no one
And the wife of no particular man
betrothed- in an unholy matrimony
By the old parish priest, Lugard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem, Eferebo. Read my poem Love and L u s t. Thanks
Thanks dear, i appreciate, I'll read it. You can also google my poems through my name, Eferebo Chibuzor. Or u can send a mail through eferebochibuzor@gmail.com