If You Want to Know Me by Noemia de Sousa

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If you want to know me 

examine with careful eyes 

this bit of black wood 

which some unknown Makonde brother 

cut and carved 

with his inspired hands 

in the distant lands of the North. 

This is what I am 

empty sockets despairing of possessing life 

a mouth torn open in an anguished wound 

huge hands outspread

and raised in imprecation and in threat

a body tattooed with wounds seen and unseen 

from the harsh whipstrokes of slavery

tortured and magnificent 

proud and mysterious

Africa from head to foot

This is what I am.

If you want to understand me 

come, bend over this soul of Africa 

in the black dockworker's groans 

the Chope's frenzied dances 

the Changanas' rebellion 

in the strange sadness which flows 

from an African song, through the night.

And ask no more

to know me

for I'm nothing but a shell of flesh 

where Africa's revolt congealed

its cry pregnant with hope.