Today we stand at the junction of crossroads
I am now a believer and convinced that we
are at the junction of choices and fear
We once shared a roof with many tribes and
enjoy the comfort of our diversity in brevity
Politics came like a mad dog and chase us all to hide
Religion roar like a tornado, exposing our rooftops
Tell the tribes, the men from Futa Jalon are killing us
They stripped naked our honor and divided us for a spoil
Our mothers weeping daily
along the tributaries of the Niger area
Our Fathers heads bow in shame
and shoulders stoop so low like Halloween of hell
Someday, just sometimes from a little while to come
The sun of peace shall rise again
With healings in its wings
Freedom that had long gone asleep
shall awaken the dawn to yell in trumpet voice
Free at last! ! Free at last! ! Free at last! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem