1
‘The Congo is myself’ (Lumumba)
I myself will be the stage for my salvation!
Already velvet breaks the silences
with evanescent wings
which snow upon the oil-lamp.
Slobber within the masks will serve better for this carnival
than grinning on a thousand different notes,
But since I have only one face
Over that alone shall I pass my hand.
The flat horizon of this country splits my heart
If I recoil everything bristles suddenly!
I will stay at the gate with the wind in my side
but with tornadoes in my belly
2
I tear at my belly,
Neither seawrack nor iodine
nor the very algae have so much
tenderness in their caress
as my lips knew once
before the earth was insulted
by a galloping herd of ventriloquist jackals!
The belly
always with that sickening warmth
as of the charnel-house.
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