Fear not the clouds that gather,
O'erhead like a mighty army.
Emulate the bravery of your father,
And cower not on a day so stormy.
Hide your face not my son,
Cover not your head in shame.
Tilt your shaven head towards the sun,
And glide on its path to fame.
They have come in broad daylight,
And stole your future away,
They have come in the night,
And loot your inheritance their way.
Rise up oh you african son and cry no more again,
Though heavens alone can quantify the threshold of your pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem