Léopold Sédar Senghor

Blues by Léopold Sédar Senghor

The spring has swept the ice from all my frozen rivers My young sap trembles at the first caresses along the tender b…

In Memoriam by Léopold Sédar Senghor,

It is Sunday. I fear the crowd of my brothers with stony faces. From my tower of glass filled with pain, the nagging …

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