The Spy.
The spy, a guy of immense conscience,
Had to seek his inroad for bread,
And set his adventure to wed,
The black rivers, for a lagoon.
The nature-born savages of the forest,
Though enemy at first, but turned his inmates,
His psychic stretched its lea,
And he was transformed into Love among them,
Ah! From an appointed agent to a secret sharer!
He begins to hate his race, and its contrived face,
And the poisonous psychic missiles,
That cause among the innocence, -tepid wails.
The Colonial Vice has thousand –detective –eyes,
And no rattle of Africa can spite such venom as it has,
So the spy, a friend to savage, -must have the ravage,
As Christ, Gandhi, and Lincoln had,
Ah! In the forest of the intellectual animals, the Spy was a mad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem