1. Africa
David Diop
Senegal
Africa my Africa
Africa of proud warriors in ancestral savannahs
Africa of whom my grandmother sings
On the banks of the distant river
I have never known you
But your blood flows in my veins
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your work
The work of your slavery
Africa, tell me Africa
Is this your back that is unbent
This back that never breaks under the weight of humilation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying no to the whip under the midday sun
But a grave voice answers me
Impetuous child that tree, young and strong
That tree over there
Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers
That is your Africa springing up anew
springing up patiently, obstinately
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires
The bitter taste of liberty.
2. Africa
Sunday Igwebuike
Nigeria
Weep not dear land,
Though our back is bent,
That we cannot stand uprightly!
Our shoes are worn out,
Without any replacement in sight.
We eat the bread of sorrow.
Yet weep not, dear land!
Weep not woman,
Woman weep not!
For I can see,
Sudden emergence of light!
Weep not woman,
Weep not, dear land!
Weep not, Woman weep not,
For your day,
Is coming,
As the sudden dawn,
That mocks the darkness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem