‘Africa my Africa’ up anew

by David Diop Springing up patiently,

(July 1927-1960) obstinately
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires
Africa, my Africa
The bitter taste of liberty.
Africa of proud warriors in
ancestral savannahs ‘Africa my Africa’
Africa of whom my by David Diop
grandmother sings (July 1927-1960)
On the banks of the distant
Africa, my Africa
river
Africa of proud warriors in
I have never known you
ancestral savannahs
But your blood flows in my
Africa of whom my
veins
grandmother sings
Your beautiful black blood that
On the banks of the distant
irrigates the fields
river
The blood of your sweat
I have never known you
The sweat of your work
But your blood flows in my
The work of your slavery
veins
Africa, tell me Africa
Your beautiful black blood that
Is this you, this back that is
irrigates the fields
bent
The blood of your sweat
This back that breaks
The sweat of your work
Under the weight of
The work of your slavery
humiliation
Africa, tell me Africa
This back trembling with red
Is this you, this back that is
scars
bent
And saying yes to the whip
This back that breaks
under the midday sun
Under the weight of
But a grave voice answers me
humiliation
Impetuous child that tree,
This back trembling with red
young and strong
scars
That tree over there
And saying yes to the whip
Splendidly alone amidst white
under the midday sun
and faded flowers
But a grave voice answers me
That is your Africa springing
Impetuous child that tree,
young and strong
That tree over there
Splendidly alone amidst white
and faded flowers
That is your Africa springing
up anew
Springing up patiently,
obstinately
Whose fruit bit by bit acquires
The bitter taste of liberty.-