Like a snail in the mud,
You cruised into our neighbourhood.
It is now obstinately obvious
That you are back again to dine.
The black skin is your pal
And with it you’ve painted our town.
Creatively, you’ve autographed our land
With your dark-in-complexion stamp.
You spent half a day seducing the moon into your world
But treated her with contempt thereafter.
With her garments, she paid for her trust
And shamefully she hovered, barely nude!
You alone murdered the day off our sights
And even kept us glued to our beds.
What else do you want from us?
The dark-in-complexion night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem