Son of the old Moon-mountains African!
Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile!
We call thee fruitful, and that very while
A desert fills our seeing's inward span:
Nurse of swart nations since the world began,
Art thou so fruitful? or dost thou beguile
Such men to honour thee, who, worn with toil,
Rest for a space 'twixt Cairo and Decan?
O may dark fancies err! They surely do;
'Tis ignorance that makes a barren waste
Of all beyond itself. Thou dost bedew
Green rushes like our rivers, and dost taste
The pleasant sunrise. Green isles hast thou too,
And to the sea as happily dost haste.
This poem is literary and very imaginative poem. Wow very nice poem. I like it very much
Shows the real cultural believes of. African people and how modern world look at it
The poem combines the reality with mythology while appreciating the nature exclusively and undiscribably.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it would be great if you add an appreciation of the poem with this