My brother you flash your teeth in response to every hypocrisy
My brother with gold-rimmed glasses
You give your master a blue-eyed faithful look
My poor brother in immaculate evening dress
Screaming and whispering and pleading in the parlours of
condescension
We pity you
Your country’s burning sun is nothing but a shadow
On your serene ‘civilized’ brow
And the thought of your grandmother’s hut
Brings blushes to your face that is bleached
By years of humiliation and bad conscience
And while you trample on the bitter red soil of Africa
Let these words of anguish keep time with your restless step –
Oh I am lonely so lonely here.