domingo, 12 de junho de 2011

Fansan Paul Adewale

He is a wonderful nigerian poet. He describes very well the feelings, pride to be an african and  his dream to see Africa a reference to the others nations.


My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in

Failure hunts us
Confused and glazed
Looking into vacancy
As the sun struggle to peep out
From the morning cloud
So we struggle against our unseen failure

Wouldn’t there be a time we too
Throw caution into winds?
Duty for children seems like chains of slavery
Prisoner of our own flesh and blood
We sometimes feel lovely
But with fake enthusiasm

Motherhood as a sorrowful journey
Motherhood as fighting a ghost
In their whining whispers weeps
Those teeth, those teeth, those teeth
Teeth that suppose to be their pride are neglected

There will be a time when
The splendour of your beauty will showcase
These roses that are neglected
These roses that are discomforted
These roses that are ugly

The skill of her peculiar stone
For you coloured love and erased hatred
All for the unworthy infants
Was is a cowardice that you protected us
But little did we see in nature that is ours

Mothers even in death had no peace
You made the world to be a grassier road
Before her wandering feet
Busy old fools giving shelters to the unholy ones
Shine here to us and thou art everywhere

We and the labouring world are passing by
Like the pale water in their wintry race
Leave and depend on those lonely face
Like water enters a coconut without any knowledge
So our mother watch us without father

Father in the south with his working doctrine
Mother at the north to lull us to sleep
When day hides
Mother stay awake
When day breaks
Mother stay awake
I will rather come from a woman again
Children crying on top of their voice
Like wind whistling through the window.

Posted by Antonio Deodato

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