That Mali which swallowed Ghana
And Songhai that swallowed Mali
Where are they now
Except they had done the animal things
That Sundiata and those Mansas
Where are they now
And what game did they play
Except that barbaric hobby of men
That Hitler hurly-burly, that ‘Nam norm
What fruits were reaped?
Nought, except inter-arsons across seas
That Osama oath, that Saddam sadness
Which ailment did it cure?
None, except another moonshot of a kind
That Ghaddafi gag, that twin-Sudans' sunder
Which grieves have they soothed?
None, except many more anew
Be not ambitious O Africa
Keep to your true status
And be the mother of the raw
For robot making isn't thine at all
Where are the first triers?
Where are their casualties?
And where are their veterans?
Yet how far are we in original tech?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem