Awake from slumber with malice-free mind
Frown at corruption, free feet to run field with
Restive spirit of melancholic
In the sparkling sky eyes
Coin a langue that hands may chain
Alluvial off our coast, lofty our continent fly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
However, it stays the mother land, that flows respect to our veins, one that flows love to our heighs, and the very wondeful place that displays glide to our identity The_African_Son