Even when they ferment our blood for opulence, do we dare complain? Do we dare raise our eye-brows? Do we dare curse the insidious night that has denied us our glorious dawn of hope? No! We just chew the bitter song in silence, Our cheeks soaked in tears the harmattan wind finds difficult to dry. But may the blood shed by our stabbed dream,
Form an ocean that will drown their pride forever!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good write, thanks. I like it.