This is my mother,
She is the woman who bore me,
I was nurtured in her arms,
With her might I was protected,
This is my remnant,
The brothers of my youth,
We came forth in single array,
Nurtured by a woman of pride,
This is my pride,
The glory bestowed,
The riches of my might,
I owe no one a debt,
Though I was cast a spell,
To move in stagnation,
Though I was blindfolded,
To dash astray,
Though I was battered like unto ruin,
Crush and disintegrated,
Though I was shipped unto the West,
There I served to stupor,
I was cut beyond history,
And my imagination tampered,
Even the depth of imagination will fail,
They can't explain the cruelty,
But now I am back,
I stand with pride,
Now I can talk,
I can imagine the cruelty,
This is Africa
The mother of my race,
The woman who bore us,
I owe no one a debt to pay.
@Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem