Tuesday, 29 April 2014

A Slave's song II

The unspoken lament of a Black Slave[i]
" my tongue longs for the fountains
oh! cool sweet refreshing fountain
reminds me of Africa, my sweet home
Africa, the land of the spotted Deers
Africa, the land of lush greeneries
Africa. the home of thick black skins
Alas, here I am, my back bent over the sickle
toiling all day long in the White man's
digging, pruning, clearing, planting, and
while the White master walks round
Brother! he walks like a man with a boil on the
pipe in mouth, puffing away all day like the
smoke from mama's cooking place
the koboko in his hand to whipe any defaulter
brother! we work all day without pay
but I am not in this alone
Blacks from different climes, different tongues
we have come together in this table of
we are one by the reason of one sweat, one
one death, one lot.

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