Epitaph by Tchicaya U Tam’si

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We are this union

of water salt and earth

of sunshine and flesh

bespattering the sun

no more among the sea marks

but because there is this song

which ruins all the gulfs

which recreates a genesis

of wind weather and flesh!

I predict a babel

of unoxidized steel 

or of crossed blood

mixed in the dregs of all surges!

After the red man,

after the black man,

after the yellow man,

after the white man,

there is already the man of bronze

sole alloy of the soft fires

we have still to ford.

From L’Arc musical (1970)