Those people are black,
And their hands, eyes, hair
What they hold
What they eat
Either what they don’t eat
Those people are slaves,
And their tongues, lands, spouses
Everything they own
And their children too
Even their future
Those people are innocent
Their laughs, looks, feelings
Pearl-like teeth
Their faces so pure as their hearts
They are innocent, black slaves
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem