My Africa breathes blood.
Let her bathe her wounds
in the sweet waters of understanding,
let ubuntu warm her heart,
let her sing in unison with the voices of her rainbow nation,
let her savour forgiveness on her multi-coloured tongue,
let her fly with the masekhane eagle
into the hazy blue of the new South Africa
and let her breathe golden acacia blossoms of all time.
(13 November 2000)
I will share this poem to all of my people. this is food for us the young to feed on. thank you.
Ngiyakubonga, Sicelo. I have only just seen your comment on this now - 9 and a bit years later! However, although my thanks after very late, lol, better late than never! What a wonderful comment, Sicelo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My Africa! ! My muse! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Thank you, Edward! I adore my Africa, because of her wonders and in spite of her horrors! My roots go so deep into her soil, that if anyone pulled them out, that would be the end of me! :)