| Beautiful African Poems |
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Africa my Africa,
Africa of proud warriors in the ancestral savannahs,
Africa my grandmother sings of
Beside her distant river
I have never seen you
But my gaze is full of your blood
Your black blood spilt over the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your toil
The toil of slavery
The slavery of your children.
Africa, tell me Africa,
Are you the back that bends
Lies down under the weight of humbleness?
The trembling back striped red
That says yes to the sjambok on the roads of noon?
Solemnly, a voice answers me
‘Impetuous child, that young and sturdy tree
That tree that grows
There splendidly alone among white and faded flowers
Is Africa, your Africa. It put forth new shoots
With patience and stubbornness puts forth new shoots
Slowly its fruits grow to have
The bitter taste of liberty.’
Africa of proud warriors in the ancestral savannahs,
Africa my grandmother sings of
Beside her distant river
I have never seen you
But my gaze is full of your blood
Your black blood spilt over the fields
The blood of your sweat
The sweat of your toil
The toil of slavery
The slavery of your children.
Africa, tell me Africa,
Are you the back that bends
Lies down under the weight of humbleness?
The trembling back striped red
That says yes to the sjambok on the roads of noon?
Solemnly, a voice answers me
‘Impetuous child, that young and sturdy tree
That tree that grows
There splendidly alone among white and faded flowers
Is Africa, your Africa. It put forth new shoots
With patience and stubbornness puts forth new shoots
Slowly its fruits grow to have
The bitter taste of liberty.’
Africa
David Diop
Don’t preserve my costoms
As some fine curios
To suit some white historian’s tastes.
There’s nothing artificial
That beats the natural way
In culture and ideals of life.
Let me play with the whiteman’s ways
Let me work with the blackman’s brains
Let my affairs themselves sort out.
Then in sweet rebirth
I’ll rise a better man
Not ashamed to face the world.
Those who doubt my talents
In secret fear my strength
They know I am no less a man.
But let them bury their prejudice,
Let them show their noble sides,
Let me have untrammelled growth,
My friends will never know regret
And I, I never once forget
As some fine curios
To suit some white historian’s tastes.
There’s nothing artificial
That beats the natural way
In culture and ideals of life.
Let me play with the whiteman’s ways
Let me work with the blackman’s brains
Let my affairs themselves sort out.
Then in sweet rebirth
I’ll rise a better man
Not ashamed to face the world.
Those who doubt my talents
In secret fear my strength
They know I am no less a man.
But let them bury their prejudice,
Let them show their noble sides,
Let me have untrammelled growth,
My friends will never know regret
And I, I never once forget
YOUNG AFRICA"S PLEA
David Diop
Dennis Osadebay
Dennis Osadebay
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contact us: hyper@showafrika.com I copyright 2007 I all rights reserved
If you have any African Poems that you
think we should publish do send it to us
at hyper@showafrika.com or
hotidy@yahoo.com. We will be happy to
publish your poem(s)
think we should publish do send it to us
at hyper@showafrika.com or
hotidy@yahoo.com. We will be happy to
publish your poem(s)