Maiden hair is black
Maiden hair is natural
Plaited all in stripes
Streaming down to her neck
No painting on her eyes
No painting on her lips
No painting on her nails
Yet she glows all days.
To a distant river
With a calabash on her head
Maiden walks to fetch water
Maiden fills the water pot
Honey pot in her thighs
It’s purity is her pride
Hidden from a man’s eyes
Till she’s given as a bride
Maiden is my grand mother
Who was schooled by her mother
Under a mango tree
Maiden sing with her sisters
Black birds perch to listen
To the sweet african songs
They love the golden voice’
Sounding great without gongs
Who has seen maiden
In this new african day
Will maiden be back
From the white man’s eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem