The Grieved Lands by Augustinho Neto

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The grieved lands of Africa

in the tearful woes of ancient and modern slave

in the degrading sweat of impure dance

of other seas

grieved

The grieved lands of Africa

in the infamous sensation of the stunning perfume of the

flower

crushed in the forest

by the wickedness of iron and fire

the grieved lands

The grieved lands of Africa

in the dream soon undone in jinglings of gaolers’ keys

and in the stifled laughter and victorious voice of laments

and in the unconscious brilliance of hidden sensations

of the grieved lands of Africa

Alive

in themselves and with us alive

 

They bubble up in dreams

decked with dances by baobabs over balances

by the antelope

in the perpetual alliance of everything that lives

They shout out the sound of life

shout it

even the corpses thrown up by the Atlantic

in putrid offering of incoherence and death

and in the clearness of rivers

They live

the grieved lands of Africa

in the harmonious sound of consciences

contained in the honest blood of men

in the strong desire of men

in the sincerity of men

in the pure and simple rightness of the stars’ existence

They live

the grieved lands of Africa

because we are living

and are imperishable particles

of the grieved lands of Africa.