Ofentse Mercy Hajane
Thy Is An African - Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane
Wakenth from chamber of shadows,
Arrows armed in each of thou warrior,
The darkness is thy mother.
Thou art in its mending marvel.
One would argue not the resemblance.
For even thy skin betrays thy nahying intentions of thy origin.
Great men hast not tried to mend back the power that created them.
For nature hath been glowing over them with needles of truth.
Lest ye listen to the music of the winds.
The trees whistling lo thy precious gift.
Thy camouflaged leather of life.
Appointing thee from the rest as a predator.
Silent and thus invisible under the dim glow of the stars.
Let it be light either dark.
Thy dabble in both of its advances.
Carelessly basking under the radiance of each.
Thou art a creature of great marvel.
Not even God can create thee,
Of the origin of life.
Thy is an African
Comments about Thy Is An African by Ofentse Mercy Hajane
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.