Ra msey Muspratt , Cambridg e

Gerald Moore was born in Ulli Beier was born in

London in 1 924 and re ad Germany in 1 922 and stu died
E nglish at Cambridge He li teratu re in England Since
v
. .

began t o be interested in 1 9 5 0 he h as been li ing in

f
A rican writing du ring thr ee Nigeria where he is a
,

years he sp ent as an ext ra lecturer in the department of

mu ral tu tor in Nigeria Fro m extra-mural stu dies at
fi v
.

1 9 5 6 t o 1 9 6 0 he was the rst Uni ersity Co llege Ibadan ,

direct or of extra-mural He is editor of the literary

stu dies at Hong Kong magazine B la ck O rpheus and
v v f
, ,

Uni ersity an d isited China , in 1 96 1 helped t o o und

Siam Cambodi a and Malaya
, , . Mbari a clu b for Ibadan
,

Since 1 960 he has been writers and artists which is

v fl
,

director of ext ra-mural already ha ing an in u ence

stu dies at Makerere College f

o n A rican cul tu ral li e H e f
j
.

in Uganda He is a member is also oint-edito r o f Mb ari ‘

O
.

o f the B lack Publi cations Among his

’
rphe us

fi
.

committee and his rst book , books are Yoruba P oe try

S even Africa n Writers , A r t in N ig eria I 9 6 O
was published in 1 9 62 . and We s t African Mud

S culp t ure

Co ver desi n by M ssim

g a o -
Vignelli
Ramsey Muspratt , Cambr idg e

Gerald Moore was born in Ulli Beier was born in

London in read
1 9 2 4 an d Germany in 1 9 2 2 an d stu died
English at Cambridge He li teratu re in England Since
v
. .

began t o be interested in 1 9 50 he h as been li ing in

f
A rican writing du ring three Nigeria where he is a
,

years he s pent as an extra lecturer in the department of

mural tu to r in Nigeria Fro m extra-mural stu dies at
fi v
.

1 9 5 6 t o 1 9 60 he was the rst Uni ersity College Ibadan ,

direct or of extra-mural He is editor of the literary

stu dies at Hong Kong magazine B lack Orpheus and
v v f
, ,

Uni ersity and isited China , in 1 96 1 help ed t o o und

Siam Cambo dia and Malaya
, , . Mbari a clu b for Ibadan
,

Since 1 9 60 he has been writers and artists whi ch is

directo r of extra-mu ral v ,

already ha ing an in u ence fl

stu dies at Makerere College f
o n A rican cu ltu ral li e He f
j
.

in Uganda He is a member is also oint-editor of Mb ari ‘

O
.

o f the B lack rphe us Publi cations Among his

co mmitt ee an d his rst book fi , books are Yoruba P oe try
S even Africa n Writers , A rt in N ig eria I 9 6 0
was published in 1 962 . an d We st Africa n Mud

S culp t ure

Co ver desi n by M ssim

g a o V igne lli
PE NGU
—

I N A F R IC A N L IB R AR Y A P 7

E dite
d by R ona ld S eg a l

Modern Poetry from Africa

GE RALD M O O R E AN D U LL I I R
BE E
Mo dern

ED ITED BY GE R A L D M OO RE

AND ULLI BE IER

P eng ui n B ooks
 Bt fi fi i

P P P d w ddl
Book s Lt d, H arm on s orth , Mi
e ng uin

l pp R d Rl d e s ex
U S A
. . e n guin Bo ok s Inc , 3 3 0 0 C i
. e r Nl il l
. oa B a tim ore 11 Md
AU S TR AL IA : e ng ui n Book s Pt y Lt d, 7 6 2 W hi t e h or s e oa ,
Mi t ch am, Vict oria
l
Thi s p l d
s e e ct i on fir st ub ish e 1 9 63

l
Thi s py ld M
s e e ct ion co ll r ig h t Ge r a o o re an d U i B e ie r , 1 9 63

M d p d
by
L F
a

W
Cox and
on do n,
e an d

R d
in Gr e at Brit ain
rin t e

yman Lt d,
ak e nh am, an d e a ing

S e t in Monot yp Ple antin

byw
Thisb ook is so ld l
w ay oftr ade , b e e nt , t e-
i
d
sub e ct t o th e condit io n th at it sh all
w dp dn ot ,

of pb
’
so l , hir e d o u t , or o t h e r ise di s o s e

w pb
it h ou t th e u lish e r s con s ent , in any form o f b in in g o r
cover ot h er t h an th at in hi ch it is u lish e d
Cont e nts

A cknowledg ements

Introduction

MA D A G A S C A R

j j
ea n- oseph Rabéa rioelo Four poems from Tra duits
de la nuit :

(2) What invisible rat

’

(3) Th e hi de of the
‘

black co w ’

(4) She whose eye s ’

( 1 7) Th e black gla maker

‘
ss
C ac t u s

F la o ien Ranaio o Song of a Young Girl

Song of a C ommon Lover

S eng hor In Memoriam

Night of Sine
Lux embourg 1 939
Totem
s
Pari in the Sno w
Blue s
Th e D ead
Prayer t o Ma k ss
Vi sit
All D ay Long 50
w
In hat T e mpe tuou s s
 C ON TE N TS

Le op old S e da r S e ng ho r N e w York
’ ’

Yo u Held the Black Face

I will Pronounce your N ame
Be not Amazed

D av id D iop Listen C omrades

Your Presence
Th e R enegade
Africa
Th e Vul tures
To a Black D ancer
N igger Tramp
B irag o D iop D iptych
O men
Vani ty
Ball
Viaticum

G A MB A I
Lenrie P e ters Homecoming
Song
v
W e ha e C ome
.
Home

A Plea for Mercy

Th e S earch

E llis Ayit ey K omey Th e Change

G A . woonor - Willia ms S o ngs o f Sorrow 78

Song of War 80
Th e S ea Eats the Land at Home 81

N IG RIA E

Olo kun 85
86
s
Th e Impri onment of Ob at ala 8 7
 C ON TE N TS

john P epp er
’
Cla rk Easter 88
F or Granny (from Hospital) 88
Ibadan
Fulani C attle 89
Cry o f Birth
Ab ik u 91
Ga brie l O ka ra w
s Sail Gently
'

Th e Sno flake
D ow n
Piano and D rum s
Were I to C hoose
Th e Mystic D rum
Adhi amb o
Spirit o f the Wind
!

O ne Night at Victoria Beach

F ra nk Aig —Imoukhuede O ne Wife for O ne M an

Micha el E cheruo Sophi a

Chris topher O kig bo v
Lo e Apart
Eight poems from Heavens
g a te
O verture
Eyes Watch the Stars
Water Maid
Transition
Sacrifice
s
Pas ion Flo er w
Lustra
Bridge
s
Four poem from Limits
Siren ( 69 the mor tar is not
y e t dry .

( 1 ) Suddenly becoming
talkative ’

(2) For he a a shr ub

‘
ws
among the poplar s ’
1 08
(3) Bank o r e e d
‘
s fi .
’
C ON TE N TS

Chris t ophe r O kig bo (4 ) An image insists

‘
— ’

Wole S oy inka T elephone C onversation

D eath in the D awn
R equiem
Prisone r
1 T hink it Rains
S eason

C O N GO ( B R A ZZ A V ILL E )
Tchicaya U Tam si
’
Brush -fire
D ance to th e Amul et s
A Mat to Weave
C O N GO ( L EO P OL D ILL V E )
A ntoine-Rog er B olamba Portrait
s
A Fi tful of Ne ws
CAPE VE R D E I L A ND
S S

Ag uina ldo F onse ca Tavern by the S ea

35 0 T O ME
Aldo do E spirito S a nto Where are the Men S eized in
thi s Wind of Madne ss ? 1 39

AN G O L A

Ag ostinho Neto Farewell at the Moment of

Antonio jacinto Monangamb a

S OU TH I
A FR C A
To th e Proud
Th e Echoe s
As Long a s I Liv e
 C ON TE N TS

B lok e Modisa ne

NY A SA L AND
D a vid Ruba diri An African Thundersto rm

K ENY A
j ohn Mbiti Ne w York Skyscraper s
7oseph K a riuki
~
‘
Come Away, my Love

M 0 0AMB 1 ! UE

fose Cr av eirinha Th e Seed is in Me

’

Three D imensio ns

N oemia de S ousa Appeal

Va lente Ma la ng a tana To the Anxious Mother

Wo man

S ources of the P oems

Notes on the Authors

Index of F irst lines 1 83

Acknowle dgements

F OR permissio n t o repu blish the poems in this anthology

acknowledgement is made t o the oll owing f
For Awoonor-W ill iam s t o Ikyeame Accra ; for Antoine
f
,

Roger Bolamba t o Présence A ricaine Paris ; for Kwesi Brew t o

J O J
,

Iky eame ; fo r ohn Clark t o B lack rpheus ; for o s é Crav e irinha

t P ierre J
- ean O swald Paris ; for Birago D iop t o Présence
f v f
o ,

A ricaine ; fo r D a id D iop t o Présence A ricaine and B lack

O rpheu ; fo r A guin a ldo F o nse ca t o Pierre J
- O
ean swald ; for
J J O
s

A nt ni o a cint o t o P ierre - ean swald ; for Ellis Ayitey Komey

O O
o

t o B lack rpheus ; for Valente Malang at ana t o B lack rphe us ;

fo r A og st inh o N et o t o P J O
ierre - ean swald ; for Gabriel kara O
t o B lack O rpheu ; f
s or J J
e n o seph Rab éarivelo and Fle ieu
a - v
v
Ranaivo t o Presses Uni ersitaires de France ; for Al do do
J O
Espirito S anto t o Pierre- ean swald ; for L éopold S edar
Senghor t o Editions du Seu il Paris and B la ck rpheus ; for O
J O
, ,

No emi a de S ou s a t o Pierre ean swald ; for Wole S oyink a t o

—

E ncounte r and B lack O rpheus ; fo r Tchi caya U Tam si to

,
'

Caract eres .
I ROD
NT U CT IO N

Thi s gesture, s imultane o usly rej ection and as er on e o f s

tion was Négritude In the words of Aimé Cesaire,
s
, .

Blackness is not absence, but refu al The fact that the

‘

s
.

gesture itself was Often made from the genial surro unding
of a Paris café, that it was Often an affair of the intellect and
emotions rather than of manners or way Of li fe, doe not s s
s
alter it cardinal importance in th e development of modern
African poetry The ge ture o f Négritude embrace a good s s
s
.

de al of the poetry in thi book, notably that of Senghor,

D avid D iop, Bir ago D iop, and the Congolese poet s
U Tam si and Bolamba Without some understandi ng of
’

s s s
.

it, at least in its hi torical importance, it i impo sible

s
to see any hape in th e poetic events of the continent
over the past twenty years .

Th e t wo po ets of Madaga car included here, though e n s

thu siaSt ically embraced by S enghor in hi s exciting A ntholo
i d l nouv elle poe sie do not ma lg a che
’

g e e a neg re e t

belong entirely in the comp any of their French African

contemporaries Madaga car Was the last part Of th e s
w s
.

African world ( ith which it i now generall y classed) to

fall under French rule, ye t it wa th e first in hich France s w
s
practi ed her cul tural policy of a ssimila tion with even
lim s
ited effe ctivenes Th e i land a not fully occupied b y s ws
s
.

French troops until 1 8 96, and one of the fir t acts of the

s trongly anti -clerical metropolitan government wa to s
s
close down hundred of mi ion school which had already ss s
s s s
.

prung up there Soon, however, thi policy wa reversed

.

and Franc e began producing a small Malagasy élite whi ch

‘

s
could assi t in the administration of the coun try By the .

1 92 03 Madagascar had produced a poet o f genius who

wrot e and thought in French, jean-Joseph Rab éariv elo .

Thi s tragic and brilliant figure, with hi s passionate love of

French literature wa so effectively a ssimilé that he com
,
_ s
mit t e d suicide in 1 937 when the local offi cials persistently
s
blocked his effort t o go to France His poetry is undoubt .

e dl y influenced by the symbolists ; there are echoes Of

14
 I ROD U IO N “
NT CT

Laforgue s Pie rro t e squ e tone in Wha t invisible ra t, and

’

perhaps of Rimbaud in Ca ctus Ye t his poetry i very s

s s s
.

trongly itself Th e brilliant inten ity of it imagery, like

s
.

Leconte de Lisle s may be the featur e whi ch most mark

’

v s
,

him as a chi ld of th e tro pics Rab éariv e lo ne er hector

.

the reader in the modern di dactic manner, but instead

I
leads him confidently into hi own visio nary world His s .

abili ty to sustain elaborate, and explore a single image

,

throughout an entire poem as in Ca ct us or The black

s
,

g la ssma ker, di stingui shes him from the more eng ag e s poet
’

o f French Africa Furthermore, at the time when Rab éari

.

velo was writing Madagascar did not regard itself as part

ws
,

o f the African world a wo rld of which it a onl y di ml y

,

aware .

In Flavie n Ranaivo, a more recent poet, Madagascar

asserts its own poetic traditions more vigorously Th e
v s
.

slangy insolent tone of his er e reveals an authentic

inspiration from the popular vernacular ongs of th e i land s s
s s
.

S ong of a Young Girl combines very succes fully thi

l o un ging gait with a delightful impudence of language,
whi le S ong of a Common Lov er employs the line -b y-line
ingenuity of the riddl ing ballad
Madagascar has a third established poet in Jacque s
Rab e mananjara He has played a valiant part in hi s coun
s
.

’
try s liberation, and suffered imprisonment for many year
v s
after the sa age suppre sion o f the 1 947 re olt He is not v .

represented here because his rhetorical, rather long-winded

poetry does not translate well into English and is difficul t
q
to uote shortly with pro per effect Much more clearly .

th an the other two , he belongs t o the N égritude tradition,

and in the company o f other poet-politician like S enghor,
‘

s
D amas , C esaire, and eita P odeba K .

Senegal is the onl y part of the African mainland which

really witnessed assimila tion in practi ce Elsewhere it wa s
v
.

no t e en attempted until after 1 946 and was abandoned

s
altogether as Official policy ome ten year later L eopold s .

15
I N RO D U C IO N
T T

S ed S enghor wa s
ar of h very few S enegal e s e to find
o ne t e

hi way to a French univer s ity before h war Bo n in 9 6

s t e r 1 0

f a S erer family i the littl Portugue s e s et lement of

.

o e n e t
Joal h came Paris in 9 8 and s oon after met h tw o
e to 1 2 t e
men with whom h wa s b as s ociated as an apo s tle of
,

e to e

Négri d Aimé Ces ai

tu e, f Ma i i qu and Léon D ama s re o rt n e

of French G i nea It wa s D ama s who fir s t found a voice

u

for h group f N g o exile s i P a is i hi bitter sta

.

’
t e o e r n r n s e

i ss ued by G L M i 937 and late

,

cato volum Pig m e ents, n 1 r

d s t oy d by h Fr nch polic
. . .

e r e t e e e:

my h tred th ived the m rg n of c l t e

a r on a i u ur
the margin of theories the margin of idl e talk
with whi ch they stuffed me since birth
v
e en though all in me aspired t o be Negro
while they ransack my Africa * .

Bu t it was Césaire who w y ars la coined h word t o e te r t e

Nég i d d s tablish d him s lf a s h chi f poet

r tu e an e d e e t e e an

in spi a io f h mov m
r t n owith hi g eat poem C hi
t e e ent s r a er

d l Thi s po m wa s s oon afterwa d s

’
p y
un retour a u a s na ta e r

hailed by A d é Breton a s a surr ali s t ma s terpiec ; but i

.

n r e e n

(Fab r e h G ma s chola J h i Jah ha s

t e er n r an e nz n
p po s wa s f mor ra ional and
,

a gued ha Cé i
r t t sa re s
’
ur e ar e t
d lib ra
e ha a m r div i to h
e te t n cons ciou s Whe
e e e n t e un n
h arrange s c r ai
e words i appa n ly s urreali s t
e t n n an re t
paradox h do s s o i order to br ak h i conventio al
e e n e t e r n
a ss ocia io and mak h m a w Thu s h w ite s of h
t n e t e ne e r t e
imp is on d h ro Tou ss ai t L O
.

’
r e e dying i h n uvertu re , n t e
Jura mou ain s amid h s nows of h Nor h
nt wm t e t e t ern te r :

What I am
is a man alone impri oned in s
is a man alone who de es fi
the white cries of white death
I
(TO U S S A N T, TO U S S A N T I
Beier .
 I N RO D U IO N
T CT

LO ’
U VE R R)
TU E

is a man o a c wh f s in
ates the whi te hawk of white death

is a man al one in the ster

ile se a of white s and
is an Old darky braced against
the waters of the sky *

Against Jahn it coul d be argued that, although Césaire s

’

s
ideology embrace Négritude, hi s technique is unmi st ak
s s
ably urreali t, and to describe it a pecul iarly negro is s
s
a piece of critical Ob curanti m It i tr ue that Senghor, s s
w s w s s ss
.

ho al o began to rite at thi time, occa ionally u e

language in a rather imilar way ; but he doe o ith as ss w
s
characteri tic rhetorical ampli tude hich oo the reade r w w s
s
mst ead Of hock ing hi m .

Perhaps I was the light which slept upon your

f
orms uid as a statue fl
Th e green light whi ch gilded you which made ,

you the Sun of my splendi d night 1

- °

s
In S enghor poetry all the famili ar theme of Négritude
’
s
appear one by one ; the perva ive pre enc e of th e dead and s s
their protective gui ding influenc e upon th e li ving (In
Memoriam, Night of S ine) ; th e deva tation of ancient s
s
Africa and it cultur e by whi te Europe (Paris in the S now)
s
the har h rigidi ty of th e modern We t and it de perate s s s
need for th e complementing qualitie o f Africa (New s
York) ; th e w
arm triumphant beauty of African oman w
( You H e ld t he B lack F a ce) But a poem lik e Luxembourg

s ws
.

1 939 ho another facet of S enghor, his profound love

s
and under tandi ng of hat i gre at and e nduring in w s
s s
We tern achie vement, hi need to live in both cul ture , to s
w s
b e hat h e him elf call a cultural mulatto
’
s ‘

s s s s
.

Many of the e theme re cur in the lende r, e xqui ite

From Cahier d un retour au pays na tal b y Aimé C esaire (Presence Africaine
P pp
’
,

aris, -
45 6 . .

I7
I N ROD IO
T UCT N

ver s e s of Bi g Di op a contemporary
ra o Senghor s wh o ha
, of
’
s
spent far more of hi s life in Africa, workin g as a govern
ment ofli cial Bu t in the angry, stabbing lin e of D a id
. s v
D iop , killed in an air crash at the age of thirty-three, there
is no room for gentle nostalgia or forgi enes His poems v s .

move inexorably towards a triumphan t affirmation He .

does not hope for better things, he comma nds them by the
power of the word, just as Agostinho N eto doe from th e s
coffee -fie lds of An gola
U
.

Tam si and Bolamba t h e

’
In the C ongolese poets
influence of Cesaire is much mo re direct Instead of the
s s
.

onorou monotony of Senghor they offer a series of ,

intense, enigmatic images related to each other b y associa -

tion rather than by any perceptible string of meaning

s
.

Naturally such a technique is only occasionally uccessful

s
.

Ye t, at their best , they bo th produce ome memorable

images, like T am si s :U ’ ’

My race remembers
‘

The taste of bronz e drunk hot .

With the poets of i - s

Engl h speaking Africa we mo e to v
an entirely different world, one which knows little o f
N égritude, and generally dislike what it knows Th e di s s
s
.

mi sive comment of Mphahlele ( To us in the multi -racial ‘

communitie s
N égritude is just so much intellectual ,

talk , a cult ) can be matched by the Nigerian Wole

’

w
Soyinka, ho ridicul es the idea o f a Tiger ha ing t o pro v
claim his tigritu de Thi s attit ude is a trifle unfair, but its
s
.

origin are not difficul t to fin d To begin with, the taste .

for literary movements is much more Gallic than Anglo

‘

Saxon, and there can be little doubt that the intellectual

attitudes of the colonial powers have affect ed their re sp e c
s
tive former ubj ects profoundly Again, Britain never .

pursued a policy of cultural a ssimila tion but, character

ist ically, had no cul tural policy at all Conse uently, there q
s ss
.

wa far le to r eact ag ainst, emotionally and intell ectual ly,

 I ROD
NT U CT IO N

than in French Africa Bu t correspondingly, it wa con

. s
side r ab ly l onger before a generatio n of West Africans

grew up who felt able to write English with real confidence

and fluency At a time when Senghor and others were
v
.

already publi shing in Parisian literary re iews Nigeria

v
,

and Ghana had nothi ng t o show but a few erses strongly

influenced by missionary hymn and sl o gans r eflecting s ,

an attitude which would make any N égritude poet see red :

My simple f thers a

In c hildlike f ith believed

a all things ;

It cost them mu ch
And their offspring lost a lo t ;
q
They u estioned n ot the lies o f magic
f
And etish seemed t o ha e s ome logic *
v .

8 0 wrote the Nigerian D enis O sade b e y only about a dozen

s
year ago Similar sentiments are still occasionally to be
.

found in Nigerian poetry, whi ch shows how thoroughl y

the job o f de similat ion, at least was accomplished Here a
s
, .

Nigerian student, writing only t wo or three year ago,

reflects smugly how his ancestors gibbered wi th uper s
st itio u s terror at the mere sight o f a unrise s
W hat in ancestral days was ear f
In me is g randeu r ;
W hat in ages gone was dread,
-
In me is splendou r j
O ther pioneer poets English speaking Africa were
of -

D e i-Anang o f Ghana and H C arey Thomas of Liberia

s
. .

These writers show rather more respect for indigenou

cul ture, but their handling o f the them e is somewhat super
ficial Thus C arey Thomas points the opposite moral from
.

O sade b ey in equally flat language

Bewarned
f
Tha t p ale aced strangers

l
Six lines from D e nis O s ade b e y, qu ot e d b y U li Be ier i B lack Orpheus, No
F l by w d gd Ib
. 1.

1 our in es I D Ek
. . e re, qu ot e from N ig eria n tu ent Verse ( adan ,

I9
 I ROD
NT UCT IO N

With unhallowed eet f

f
Pro ane this heritage our f thers g ve
a a .
*

Recently poetry of thi s recogni zably pioneer type ha ’

s
begun t o appear i n East Africa al o Th e young ikuyu s K
s
.

poet Joe Mu tiga write of the desecrati on o f holy groun d

by the planta tion o f new crops
O ur stoms are du g u p
cu ,

And p u t aside like the grass

O
,

n which the dancer tro d

f
,

And o reign crops implanted ;

And we pass by eyes o n the grou nd
‘

f
, ,

Submi tting t o the oreign as ou rs 1 .

’

Poet s like these have performed a useful function by re

establi shing poetry a s an occupati n for educated men , o ,

and their verses are often f great political and sociological o

intere s t ; but their failure penetrate the rich traditions to

either of English or of v ernac lar poetry afflicts heir work u t

with a total lack f style A anthology f these poems
o n o

would be an important and moving document in h

.

t e

history f African nationalism In this anthology they are

o

not included because they cannot be clas s ified a s modern

.

‘ ’

in the s en s e that they d not represent a fresh exploration

,
‘

o f language
It wa s not until about five year s ago that a new genera
.

tion of poet s began to show thems elves notably i Nigeria n

With the exc ption f Gabriel Okara ll the s e you g poet s
, .

e o a n

studied at University C ollege Ibadan Hence they w er

,

able to ac q i re a literary culture without suffering h

, .

u t e

s ens e of alienation and exile which fili d the black a

‘
ct e

w iters gathered in Paris twenty and thirty yea s ago

r r

Having grown up and been educated in a purely Africa

.

n
e nvironment their work i s extraordina ily free from l r s o

gan s stereotypes They are eclectic in their choice of

,

or .

No
F m
o ur y m
line s fro d ll
H Care Th o
. as, qu ot e b y U i Beier in Black Orp heus,

Fm M m by
. I.

m M m
( K mp
1
'
ro To the Cere onia l ug u bo Joe u tiga, quoted fro Tr ansition,
3 a ala,

20
I ROD
NT IO UCT N

imagery Thi s ha s given bo h freshne s s and weight to their t

lang age Both incidentall y come from area s where a
.

great deal f fine vernacular poetry ha s been collected

.
, ,

o ,

E weland and Zul uland .

Much of . the poetry from Port u guese Africa is little

s
more than a cry o f heer agony and los The e territorie s s s
s s
.

are till politically and ocially in a condition from whi ch

s
mo t of Africa emerged many year ago Th e tin y group of s .

a ssimila dos (about in Angola, after over 400 years of

s
coa tal occupation) provide the principal target of go ern s v
s
ment repres ion D r Agostinho N eto, for instance, a
. ws
imprisoned in P ortugal for over two years until hi s recent
s
e cape Ye t , if fe w
of the e poets can write of anything s
w s s
.

but their immediate dilemma, their ork i te timony

e nough to th e unquenchable pirit of their humanity An s
s w
.

exception i Valente Malangat ana ho, alone among the

s
poets in thi collection, i also a painter of di stinction s .

Like the Haitian pain ter poet Max Pinchin at, hi s imagery
-

s
ha great immedi acy and pre ence, a presence hich i s w s
more than vi ual : s
and I all resh resh f , f
b reathed gently, wrapped in my napkins .

w s
His t o poem seem to u among the mo t beautiful and s s
w
re ar ding in th e hole volum e w
ww s ss
.

Fe riter on African poetry can r e i t th e temptation

t o p ontificat e It is intere tin g to ee to what extent the e s s s

s s
.

generalization can be quared with the reality of modern

‘

w
African riting as repre ented here For a tarting-point s s
s s s
.

let u take a tatement lik e this , of S engho r : ’

Monotony of tone that is what distinguishes poetry rom prose

, f ,

it is the seal of Négritu de the incantation which opens the way,

t o essential things , the Fo rces of the Co smos *

.

s
In point of fact, it i onl y in Senghor own work that a ’
s "

s
monotony of thi kind i exhi bite d, and there it is onl y s
s
tolerable becau e of th e splendour of hi s mu ical effect s s
1 20.

22
 I ROD
NT U CT IO N

! ue je te
co udans , l a case en um ée q u e u n f visite
r e fl e t d am es p ro pi ces
’

Ma tete su r t on sein chau d comm e un dang au s ortir

du fe u e t umant f
! u e je resp ire l o de ur de no s Morts qu e je recu eille
’

v vv
,

e t re di se leur o ix i ante qu e japp reu v e a ’

v v
,

Vi re a ant de des cendre au dela da p longeu r dans

f
, ,

les hau tes pro ondeu rs du so mmeil *

.

D avid D iop exhibits a certain monotony o f content, but hi s

v fi
mo ement is t o o erce an d swift t o permit any monotony
v
_

of style C ould it be that Senghor was merely indicating

.

his o wn s o nority ?
A gain , Jahn takes Jean -Paul Sartre to task for having
argued in L O rphe e noir that N egro poetry is the true
’ ‘
’

v
re olutio nary poetry of o u r tim e , and that N égritude is ’

v
th e oic e of a particular historical moment, when the black
v
race has gi en tongue to its re olt against whi te rule v .

Against this Jahn argues , somewhat primly, that neo

v
African p o etry is no t re olutio nary at all, but a ret urn to
authentic tradition and that N égritude, far from be ing the
,

voice of a particul ar hi sto rical moment, is the style in

whi ch all African poetry must henceforth be written :
On e c for f
it took the stain rom A rica ; it demonstrated that
all f
po etry and literatu re were not only po ssible in the Afri can
f
manner an d ou t o f an A rican attitu de of mind b u t that only ,

such p oe t ry wa s leg itima t e ! editors it ali csH

’ '

Ye t already it begins t o lo ok
as though Sartre was right In
v
.

th e last few years there ha e been signs t hat the well spring

of N égritude is running dry Th e great perio d was in .

the forties an d early fifti es , and sin ce then C ésair e , D amas ,

v
and S enghor ha e all been notably unproductive Birago
v
.

D iop has published only one slim o lume of verse in

w v
t enty years D a id D iop w as killed after writing only a
.

handful of poems and before it was possible to say in what

direction his style might have moved Mean hile th e w
FM m p F
.

ro N uit de S ine ( re nch t e xt ) .

1 untu, . 2 07 .

23
I N R O D U IO
T CT N

centre of poetic activity seems to have hifted from S ene s

s
gal ari to Nigeria, where the la t five years ha e seen a
-P
s v
‘
s
remarkable up urge And, as already poi nted o u t, these .

young poets of English expression are no t merely indif ’

fere nt to, but actuall y ho tile toward , the concept of s s

Négritude .

Th e answer may be that Négritu de has served its pur

s
po e in giving neo -African poets a bridgehead and a point
of departur e Bu t as Africa move into independence, th e s
s
.

conflict of the core of N égritude become more and mo re

s
apparent It i no coin cidence that th e word itself was
.

coined by a West Indian, or that he should also have

s
written the mo t ex tended poetic exposition of it Th e
s s
.

ituation of the black West Indian was alway essentially

different from that of the continental African, and has
s
become increa ingly so a Africa itself has pa ss ed back s
into African hands Th e black man in Haiti, Cuba Puerto
w
.
,

Rico, Mart ini que, or Jamaica gre up in a permanent

s tate of exil e He had no name, no tolerated religion an d
s
.
,

carcely any distinct culture of hi s own, yet until recently

he could not expect any po ition of power or influence in s
w s
the ne mixed ocietie which had been built upon hi s
~

s
s
labour Without even kno ing, in the va t majority Of w s
ss w s s s
.

ca e , from hi ch part of Africa hi ance tor came, he

ws a obliged to build up a romantic, idealized vi ion of s
‘
Gui nea , a kind of heaven to whi ch all good N egroes go
’

It s the long road to Guinea

’

D eath takes you there *

.

s s
Hi dilemma ha been p e rfectly expres ed by the Cuban s
s
poet Nicola Gu illén, who find nothi ng ex cept hi s colour s
to di stinguish hi m from those ho rej ect him and ho i w w s
therefore obliged to investigate the meanin g of that colour

F m Guine a by R main qu oted from The P oe try f the Negro

Y Jacques
ro ou , o

(Ne w ork,

24
 I RO D U C IO N
NT T

All my
skin (I should ha e said so) v
all my skin does it really come
fro m that Spanish marble statu e ? And my
f f v
ear ul oice
f
the harsh cr y rom my gorge ? An d all my bones
do they come rom there ? f
q
Are you ui te s u re ?
Is there nothing else only that which you wrote
,

that which you sealed

with a sign of wrath .

D O you not see these drums in my eyes ?

D o you not see these drums hammering out
t wo dry tears ?
v
Ha e I not got an ancestor o f night
with a large black mark
(blacker than the skin)
a large mark

v
Ha e I g ot not an ancestor
f
rom Mandingo the Congo , , D ahomey

s
One reaction t o thi dil emma wa to plunge into a glorifica s
t ion of sensuality blood, dr um , rhythmic ecsta y
—
s s such a s
w e find in a poem lik e Rumba by José Tallet :

The limax o f passion, the dancers are trembling

c

and ecstasy presses o s é t o the ground J .

Th e Bongo is thundering and in a mad whirl

the daemon has broken Tomasa s limbs ’

q q q q
.

Pi ui-ti ui -p an pi ui-ti ui-p an !

q q q q
,

Pi ui-ti ui pan pi ui-ti ui-pan !

—

f
,

Th e blackish Tomas a now alls t o the ground

f
and down als o alls Ché Encarnacion

v
.

there they are rolling con ulsing and twitching, , ,

with whirling drum and raging Bongo

f
the rumba now ades with con-con-co-mabé !
And pa-ca, pa-ca, p a-ca, p a-ca l
Pam ! Pam ! Pam l j ' '

Akanj The Name in B lack Orpheus, NO 7

’
is translation of . .

1 Ak anji s translation of Rumba in B lack O rpheus, No 7

' ’
. .

25
I ROD U IO N
NT CT
,

It was these attitudes of alienation and protest which ga e v

rise to the literary movement o f N e grismo in Cuba durin g
“

s
the late twenties, and t o a imilar movement in Haiti at
about the same t ime And these same C aribbean mo ve
s
.

ment are the direct ancestors of Négritude .

’
1 It is interesting t hat S enghor s great anthology o f 1 94 8 ,

the chef d oeuv re of Négritude, shoul d contain th e work of

’

only thr ee poets from continental Africa, and those three

all from S enegal For it was in S enegal that a handful of
s
.

African intellectuals were treated t o the full ri gour of

a ssimila tion, and later to those of exile albeit a oluntary v
e xile in Pari s
N aturally, th e pas ionate chords of Césaire s
s
.

foun d an echo in their heart Natur ally t oo , they found

ss
.
,

le echo in the hearts of poets brought up and educated in

the bosom of a functioni ng African ociety hi ch, even at s w
the full tide of colonialism, never tr uly re embled the s
C aribbean situation
s
.

This i s what make it so dangerous for critics t o try and

s
e tablish a literary orthodoxy, in the manner o f Jahn in

Whether the work of an au thor whate er his colour belongs to v

f fi
,

Western or A rican cu ltu re depends on whether we nd in it

f v f
,

those criteria of A rican culture whi ch we ha e set orth in the

preceding chapters *
.

s s s s s
Thu J ahn e tabli he himself a the keeper of the narro w
w ss s
gate hi ch leads to the African Parna u Fortunately, as
w s w s
.

the follo ing page s ho , African poetry i already too

s w
rich and variou to follo onepath only
Probably the neare s t thing to an acceptable g n ali
.

e er zaa

t ion about African poetry ha s been made by S enghor :

Th e word here i s more than the image it is the analag ous

v
,

image, without e en the help Of metaphor or comparis on It .

is enough t o name the thing and the sense appears beneath the
,
‘

signs !
Muntu , p . 1 95 .

26
 I ROD
NT UCT IO N

This process is essentially the poet one o f verbal magic :

magus mak es by naming It undo ubtedly lies at the root .

of all poetry but it is prob ably closer t o the surface of the

,

poet s mind in Africa than elsewhere because of the recent

’

v
arri al of literacy in the area, and because he inhabits a
v
,

society where a ast body o f traditio nal ritual dance, song

v
, ,

p o etry and sto ry is still ali e In a recent article on Ife,

,
.

Willi am Fagg and Frank Willett have argued that, becaus e

he worked in perishable m aterials the African car er was v
s
,

forced co ntinually to renew hi s communi on with the god ,

‘ ’
f
t o make them a resh A parallel attitude i expressed by
. s
Sengho r who is happiest when hi s poetry is sung to
,

music in the traditional style and so passes into the mai n

s tream of tradition In di scussing poetic diction he writes
.

A poem is like a passag e of azz where the ex ecu tion is u st as j , j

imp ortant as the text I still think that the po em is not com
.

plet e untii it is sung words a n d m u si t g ether

,c o *
.

And in Cong o he ex presses contempt for the permanence

‘ ’

as compared with the true permanence of rhythmic

o f ink ,

recreation :
O ho ! C ongo beat ou t you r great name on the
Oh o ! to

waters on the ri ers on all memory v

v v
May I mo e the o ice of th e koras K oyat é The s cribe s .

ink h as no memoryxj '

In compiling this anthology, we have imposed certain

limitatio ns upon oursel es We have confined our el es to v s v
s
.

black writers and t o text originally composed in one or

other of the European languages poken in Africa Th e s .

first restrict ion is a matter of defini tion African Ac o lle c .

tio n o f this title might logically include the work of all good
poets resident in Africa or of African backgroun d, whether
black, coloured, Indian or white This would irnply the
s
, .

inclusion of such well-antholo giz ed poet as Roy C amp

bell , Willi am Plomer, and Gu y Butler, as well as th e

F
Ethiop iques, ppp l . 1 2 1 and 1 2 3 .

1 rom C ong o, ub ish ed in Ethiopiques

'
.

27
I N TR ODUC I O T N

various Africaans writer It eemed to u t hat uch a s s s s

w s
.

collection oul d lack the more particular ignificance to be

found in an anthology of poetry by black African , ho at sw
ss
lea t hare the experience of a hi storic a akening and have w
ss
not hitherto been a embled for study in a con enient v
form Th e second limitation i a matter of fea ibility s s
s
. .

There i poetry awaiting collection in hundr eds of African

s
vernacul ar Bu t how i o ne to make a critical election s s
w w s
.

ithout being fully familiar ith all the vernacular con

w
cerned ? Ho much of thi poetry could b e legitimately s
s
regarded a modern And how, having made a election, s
s
could adequat e tran lation b e ecured ? The pre ent s s s
dominance of Eur opean language in African creative s
w riting may be temporary, but there i no denyin g it s s
s s
e xi tenc e or th e trength of th e factor makin g to ard it s w s
s s
.

O ur concept o f th e modem i perhap more diffi cul t to

ss
define In part it i imply a matter of quality ; hence th e
s s s
.

exclu ion o f th e rather tractarian ver e of th e We t

s
African pioneer In part it is a matter of th e poet a ar e s w
’

s
.

ne s of th e modern idiom in European and American

s w
poetry It is thi a ar e ne that enable them to u e their ss s s
s s s s
.

re pective language without di tracting archai m and in

s
a way that appeals in tantly to th e contemporary ear
s ws
.

Th e most important limitation we impo ed a th e

s
att empt to et a high standard and to include only tho e s
s
poem whi ch have other claims to attention than th e mere
fact of having been w
ritten by African Th e cau e of s s
s s
.

literature ha been poorly erved already by un critical

sel e ction W e thought ifindefen ible to include bad poem s s
s
.

for the ak e of keeping e veryone happy Furthermor e,

s s s s s
.

anthologie ba ed on a en e of duty rather than of plea ur e

w s
are al ay un readable

s s s ss s
.

The re ult of thi policy is that ome countrie , uch a

S ene gal and Nigeria, are ell repre ented, while other do w s s
s s
not appear at all Thi i an int e re ting fact in it elf ; part s s
s s
.

of th e function of an an thology of thi k ind i to bring out

s w
cre ative trength he re it e xi t W e beli e ve that the ss .

28
Ma daga s car
J J
-
ean ose ph R bé a ariv e lo

s
Four po e m fro m Tra duits de la nuit

2 What invi ible rat s

come from th e wall of night s
gnaws at the milk y cake of the moon ?

when it ha gone, s
there w
ill b e bleeding mark of teeth s .

Tomorro w morning
tho s e who hav e dru k all night n
and those who have abandoned their card s ,

blink ing at th e moon

w ill stammer ou t :
‘
s
Who e is that Sixpence
s
that roll over th e green table ? ’

‘
Ah ! one of them i ll add,
’
w
‘
s s
our friend ha lo t everything
and killed hi m elf ! s ’

will snigger
An d all
and staggering will fall
Th moon will no longer be there
, , .

h rat will have carried her into hi

t e s hole .

T h e hide of the black co w is s tched tr e

stretched but s et to d y
,

n ot r

s tretched in the s evenfold shadow

,

33
MA D A G A S C A R

Bu twho has killed the black cow,

v
dead witho ut ha ing lowed, dead without ha ing roared,v
v
dead witho ut ha in g once been chased
v
o er that prairie flowered with stars ?

She who calves in the far half of the sky .

Stretched is the hi de
on the sounding-b o x of the wind

that is sculptured by the spirits of sleep .

And the drum is ready

when the new-born calf,
her horns crown ed with spear grass
leaps
and grazes the grass of the hill s .

v
It re erberates there
and its incantations will become dreams
un til the m o ment when the black cow lives again,

whi te and pink

before a river of light .

She
whose eyes are prisms of sleep
v
and whose lids are hea y with dreams ,
she whose feet are planted in the sea
and whose shiny hands appear
full of corals and blocks o f shini ng salt .

She will put them in little heap s beside a misty gulf

and sell them to naked s ailors
w v
hose tongues ha e been cut o u t ,
until the rain begins to fall .
 J EA N JO
- S E P H R AB é A R IVE L O

Then she will disappear

and we shall onl y see
her hair spread by the wind
like a bunch o f seaweed unravell ing ,

and perhaps some tasteless grain s of salt .

I7

T h e black glassmaker
whose co un tless eyeballs none has ever seen,
who se shoulders no ne has o erlooked v
v
,

that sla e all clothed in pearls o f glass ,

wh o is strong as Atlas
v
and who carries the se en skies on hi s head,
o n e wo uld think that the v v
ast ri er of clo uds might carry
hi m away,
v
the ri er in which hi s loincloth is already wet .

A thousand particles o f glass

fall from his hands
but rebound towards his brow
shattered by the mountains
where the winds are born .

Arid yo u are witness of hi s daily suffering

and of his endl ess task ;
w ch hi s
thunder riddled agony
'

t -
yo u a

until the battlements of the East t e -echo

the conches of the sea
but you pity him no more
v
and do not e en remember that hi s suffering begin again s
each time the sun capsize s .

35
MA D A G A S C A R

(f m P
ro re sque g )
-son es

That multitude of moulded hands

s
holding out flower to the azure ky s
that multitude of fingerle s hands s
s
un haken b y the ind w
s
they ay that a hi dden source
w ells from their untainted palms
s
they ay that this inner source
s s
refre hes thou ands of cattle
and numberles s tribes, wandering tribe s
s
in th e frontier of th e South .

ss s
Fingerle hands, pringing from a source,
s
Moulded hand , crowning the sky .

Here, when the flanks of the City were still as green

as moonbeams glancing from the forests
s
,

when they till left bare the hi lls of Iariv e

crouching like bulls upthru t, s
ws s
it a upon rock t oo steep e en for goats v
that they hid, t o protect their ources, s
s s
the e leper sp rou t ingflowe r s .

Enter the cave from which they came

s
if you eek the origin of the sickness which ravages them
origin more shr ouded than the e ening v
and further than the da n w
w
but you ill know no more than I
s
.

Th e blood of the earth, the s we at of the tone,

s
and the perm of the ind, w
w hich flow together in these palm s
have melted their fingers
and replaced them ith golden flower w s .

36
MA D A G A S C A R

Such this famo us smoker

wh o t o ok t o bacc o
when there was no m ore hemp t o burn .

A foot o f hemp ?
Sprung in Andringit ra,
spent in Ankaratra ,

n o more than Cinders to us .

False flattery
stimulates lo e a littlev
but the blade has two edges ;
why change what is natural ?
v
If I ha e made you sad
look at your self in the water of repentance
v
,

you will decipher there a wor d I ha e left .

Good bye whirling puzzle,

—

v
,

I gi e you my blessing
w restle with the crocodile,
here are your victu als and three water-lily flowers
for the way is long .

ofa Common Lover

v
D on t lo e me, my sweet,
’

like your shadow

for shadows fade at e ening v
and I want to keep you
right up to cockcrow ;
n o r like pepper

which makes the belly hot

for then I coul dn t take y
’
ou
’
when I m hun gry ;
n o r like a pillow

for we d be together in the hours o f sleep

’

but scarcely meet by day ;

nor lik e rice
for once swallowed you think no mo re of it s

;
 F L AVIE N R AN A IVO

no r like s o ft speeches
q v
fo r they uickly anish ;
n or like honey,

sweet indeed but t o o commo n

v
.

Lo e me like a beautiful dream,

your life in the night,
my hope in the day ;
like a piece of money,
v
e er with me on earth ,

an d fo r the great journey

a faithful comrade ;
like a calabash ,

intact, for drawing water ;

i n p i eces , bridges for my guitar .

39
Seneg al
Leo p ld S d
o
’

e ar Se ng hor

It is Sunday
w s
.

I fear the cro d o f my brothers with stony face .

From my tower of glass filled with pain, the naggrng An

ce st or s

I gaze at roofs and hill s in the fo g

In the silence the chimneys are gra e and barev .

At their feet sleep my dead, all my dreams are dust

All my dreams , the liberal blood spills all along the street , s
mixing with the bl o od o f the butcheries
v
.

And now, from thi s o bser atory as fro m a suburb

I watch m v
y dreams float aguely through the streets , lie at
’
‘

the hills feet

Like the g uides of my race on the banks of Gambia or
S aloum,
Now of the Seine, at the feet o f these hills .

Let me thi nk o f my dead !

Yesterday it was T oussaint the solemn anni versaryof the
,

sun

An d no remembrance in any cemetery .

Ah, dead ones who have always refused to die, wh o have

known how to ght death fi
By S eine or Sine, and in my fragile vei ns pushed the in
v incible blood,
s
Protect my dreams a you have made your ons wanderers , s
o n delicate feet .

O h D ead, protect the roofs of Paris in the Sunday fog

43
SE NE G A L
The roofs which guard my dead
That from the perilous s afety f my tow er I may de s cend o

to the s treets
T join my brothers with blue ye s
o e

With hard hands .

Woman, rest on my bro your bal am hand , your hand w s s s

gentler than fur .

The tall p almtr e es swmgmg i n th e nightwind

s
Hardly ru tle Not even cradle ong s s
s s
. .

Th e rhythmic ilence rock us

s s s
.

Li ten to its ong, li ten to th e beating of our dark blood,

li tens
To the bea ting of the dark pul e of Africa in th e mi t Of s s
lost village s
w s s s
.

Now the tired moon sink s to ard it bed of lack

water,
Now the peals of laughter even fall asleep , and th e bard s
themselve s
D s
andle their head like children on the back of their s
mother s
ws
.

Now the feet of the dancers grow heavy and heavy gro
the tongue o f the ingers s
s
.

This is the hour of the tars and o f the night that dreams
s
An d recline on thi s hill of clouds , draped in her long
gown of milk
s
.

Th e roofs o f the hou es gleam gently What are they telling

s
.

so confidently to the star ?

s s
In ide the hearth i extingui hed in the intima cy of bitter s
and sweet cent s s .

Woman, light the lamp of clear oil, and let the children in
bed talk about their ancestor , like their par ents s
s s ss
.

Li ten to the voice of the ancient of Eli a Like we, .

exiled,
SE NE G A L
v
I watch the lea es fall into the shelters into the di tches , ,

into the trenches

Where the blood of a generatio n flows
Eur ope is burying the yeast of nations and the hope o f
newer races .

Totem
I must hi de him i n my innermost veins
Th e Ancestor whose sto rmy hide is shot with lightning and

My animal protector I must hide him ,

That I may not break the barriers scandal of

He is my faithful blo o d that demands fidelity

Protecting my naked pride against
Myself and the scorn of luckier races .

Pa ris in the S now

s
Lord, you visited Pari on the day of your birth
s
Becau e it had become paltry and bad .

Yo u purified it with incorruptible cold,

Th e whi te death .

This morning even the facto ry funnels hoisted in harmony

T h e whi te flags .

P eace t o all men of go od will

‘

v
Lord, you have offered the di ided world, divided Europe ,

Th e snow of peace .

And the rebels fir ed their fourteen hundred canno ns

Against the mountains o f your peace
:
.

Lord, I have accepted your white cold that burns worse

!

than salt .

And now my heart melts like snow in the sun .

And I forget

46
 L E O P O L D S ED A R S E N G H
’

OR
Th e whi te hands that loaded the gun s that destroyed the
kingdoms ,
v
Th e hands that whi pped the sla es and that whipped you
Th e dusty hands that slapped you , the white powdered
s
hands that lapped me
Th e sur e hands that pushed me into soli tude and hatred
Th e whi te hands that felled the hi gh forest that dominated
Africa,

That felled the Sara, erect and fir m in the heart of Africa,

beautiful like the first men that were created by your
brown hands
v s
.

They felled the irgin forest t o turn into railway sleeper .

They felled Africa s forest in order to save civilization that

’

was lack ing in m e n

s w
.

Lord I can still not abandon this la t hate, I kno it, the
,

hatred of diplomats who show their long teeth

And who Will barter with black flesh tomorrow .

My heart, oh lord, has melted like the snow on t he roofs of

Paris
In the sun of your Goodness ,
It is kind to my enemies , my brothers with the snowle ss
whi te hands ,

Also because of the hands of dew that lie on my burning

cheeks at night .

Blues
Th e spring has swept the ice from all my frozen rivers
My young sap trembles at the first caresses along the
tender bark
s
.

Bu t see h ow in the mi d t of July I am blin der than the

Arctic winter !
My wings beat and break against the barriers of heaven
No ray pierces the d eaf vault of my bitterness .

What sign is there to find ? What key t o strike ?

An d how can go d be reached by hurling javelins ?

47
SE N E G A L
Royal Summer o f the di stant South, you will come too
late, in a hateful S eptember !
In what book can I find the thrill o f your reverberation ?
s
An d on the page of what book, on what impo sible lip s s
taste your deliriou love ? s
Th e i mpatient fit leaves me Oh ! the dull beat of the rain
v
.

on the lea es !
D uke, till I cry myself
’
Just play me your Solitude to

s
,

leep .

The D ead

They are lying there be ide the captured roads all

ou t s
s s
,

along the road of di sa ter

s s
El e gant poplar , tat ues of sombre gods draped in the ir
long cloak of gold, s
s
Senegalese pri oners darkly stretched on the soil of France .

v
In vain they ha e cut off your laughter, in vain the darker
flower of your flesh
s
,

You are the flower in it first beauty amid a naked absence

of flower s
Black flower with its grave mile, diamond o f immemorial s
age s
s s
.

You are the lime and pla ma of the green spring of the

O f the first couple you are the fle h the ripe belly the s
s
,

milkine s
You are the sacred increa e of the bright garden s s of

paradi e s
s
An d the in vincibl e fore t, victoriou over fire and thunder s
bolt
s w s
.

Th e great ong of your blood ill vanqui sh machine and

cannon s
Your throbbing peech evasions and lie s s .

48
 Lé O P O L D S ED A R S E N G H OR
No hate in your soul void of hatred, no cunning in your
soul void of cunning
s
.

0 Black Martyrs immortal race, let me speak th e word of

pardon .

Prayer t o Masks
Ma sks ! Oh Masks !
Black mask, red mask, you black and hite mask , w s
R ectangul ar masks through whom the spirit breathe , s
I greet you in silence !
And you t o o, my p anth e rh e ade d ancestor .

Yo u guard this place, that is closed t o any feminine laugh

ter, t o any mortal smile
w
.

Yo u purify the air of eternity, here here I breathe the air

of my fathers

w
.

Masks of maskle ss faces , free from dimples and rink les ,

v
You ha e comp o sed this image, thi s my face that bend s
v
o er the altar o f whi te paper .

In the name of your image, listen to me !

s s
No w while the Africa of de spoti m i dying it i the agony s
of a pitiable princess

s
Just like Europe to whom she i connected through the
navel,
s
Now tur n your immobil e eye towards your children ho w
v
ha e been called
s
And who sacrifice their live like the poor man hi s la t s
garment
S o that hereafter we may cry here at the rebirth of the
‘ ’

v
world being the lea en that the whi te flour need s
s
.

Fo r who else would teach rhythm to the world that ha

died o f machines and cannons ?
s s
For wh o el e hould ejaculate the cry of j oy, that arouse s
ws
the dead and the i e in a new dawn ?
Say, wh o else could return the memory of life to men ith w
a torn hope ?

49
S E NE G A L
Th e y call us cotton head s , and coffee men and oily men, ,

They call men of death

us .

Bu t we are the men of the dance whose feet onl y gain

w
po er when they beat the hard oil s .

Visit
s
I dream in the intimate emi-darkne of an afternoon ss .

I am visited by the fatigues of the day,

The deceased o f the year, the ouvenirs of the decade, s
ss
Like the proce ion of the dead in the village on the horizon
of the shallow ea s .

It is the same sun bedewed with illusions ,

Th e same sky unnerved by hidden presences ,
s s
Th e ame ky feared by tho e who ha e a reckoning with s v
the dead .

And suddenly my dead draw near to me .

All Day L ong

All day long, over the long straight rail s
Like an inflexible will over the endle sands ss
s
Acro s parched C ayor and Baol where the baobabs twist
their arms in torment
All day long, all along the line
s
Pa t the same lit tle stations , pa t black girl j ostling likes s
birds at the gate of chool s s s
All day long, sorely rattled by the iron train and du ty and s
hoar e s
s
Behold me eeking to for get Europe in the pastoral heart
o f Sine !
 Lf o r O L D s AR S E N G H OR
In wha t Tempestuous Night
What dark tempestuous night has been hiding your face ?
And what claps of thunder frighten you from the bed
When the fragile walls of my breast tremble ?
I shudder with co ld, trapped in the dew of the clearing .

O, I am lost in the treacherous paths of the forest .

Are these creepers or snakes that entangle my feet ?

I slip into the mudhole of fear and my cry is suffocated in a
watery rattle
v s
.

Bu t when shall I hear your o ice again happy luminou ,

m orn ?
When shall I rec o gniz e myself again in the laughi ng mirror
o f eyes that are large like windows ?

fi
,

An d what sacri ce will pacify the white mask o f the god

dess ?
P erhaps the bl o od of chi ckens or goats , or the worthless
bl oo d in my eins ?v
O r the prelude o f my song the ablution of my pride ?
,

v
Gi e me propitious wo rds .

Ne w York
(for jaz z o rches t ra t rumpe t solo)

N e w York ! At first I was confused by your beauty, by

those great golden long legged girls
—
.

So shy at first before your blue metallic eyes , your frosted

smile
S O shy An d the anguish in the depths o f skyscraper treet s s
s
.

Lifting eyes hawkh o o de d to the un s eclipse ’

s
.

Sulphuro us your light and livid the tower with heads that
thunderbolt the sky
Th e skyscrapers which defy the storms with muscles of
steel and stone-glazed hi de
s
.

Bu t two weeks on the bare sidew alk of Manhattan

SI
S E NE G A L
At the end of the third week th e fever seizes you with the
pounce of a leopard
w w s
Two eeks ithout river or field , all the birds of the airs
s
Falling udden and dead on the hi gh ashes of flat rooftops .

NO smile of a child blooms , his hand refreshed in my hand,

No mother s breast, but onl y nylon legs Legs and breasts
’

v w
.

that ha e no s eat nor smell

s s
.

No tender word for there are no lip only artificial heart ,

paid for in hard cash

An d no book where wisdom may be read Th e painter .
’
s
palette blossoms with crystals of coral
s s
.

Nights of in omnia oh night of Manh attan ! So agitated

by flickering lights, while motor horns howl o f empty
-

hours
s
An d while dark water carry away hygienic lo es, like v
w
rivers flooded ith the corpses of children .

s
N ow i the ti me o f signs and reckonings
N e w York ! Now is the time of manna and hyssop .

You must but listen t o the trombones of Go d, let your

heart b eat in the rhythm of blood your blood , .

I saw in Harlem humming with noise with stately colours

and flamboyant smells
s
It was teatime at the house o f the eller of pharmaceutical
products
I saw them preparing the fest ival of night for escape from
the day .

I proclaim night more truthful than the day

s
.

It was the pure hour when in the streets Go d make the

life that goes back b eyond memory spring up
s
All the amphibious element shi ning like suns .

Harlem Harlem ! Now I saw Harlem ! A green breeze of

corn springs up from the pavements ploughed by the
naked feet of dancers
s s
Bottom wave of silk and sword blade brea t , water lily
- - ss
s
ballet and fabulou ma k s ss .

5 2
S E NE G A L
You Held the Bla ck Fa ce
(for Kha la m)
You held the black face of the warri o r between your
hands
w
Whi ch seemed ith fateful twilight lumino us .

From the hill I watched the sunset in the bays of your

eyes .

When shall I see my land again, the pure horizon o f your

face ?
s
When hall I sit at the table of your dark breasts ?
w
Th e nest of s eet deci si ons lies in the hade s
s
.

I shall see different skie and di fferent eyes ,

s
And hall drink from th e source of other lips fresher than s ,

lemons ,
s
I hall sleep under the roofs of other hair, protected from
Storm s
w s
.

Bu t every year, hen the rum of spring kindles the vein

afresh,
s
I hall mourn anewmy home, and the rain of your eye s
over th e thi r ty savann ah s .

(for Tama)
I will pronounce your name, Nae tt, I ill declaim you, w
Naétt !
s
p

Naétt, your name is mild lik é cinnamon, it i the fragranc e

'
‘

w
in hi ch the lemon grove leeps, s
s
Naett, your name i the sugared clarity of blooming coffee
tree s
s s
And it re emble the savannah, that blo som forth under s s
s
th e ma culine ardour of the midday sun
w s s
.

Name o f de , fre her than hadows of tamarind,

s
Fresher even than the hort du k, hen th e heat of the day s w
ss
i ilenced .

54
 L EO P OL D S ED A R S E N G H OR
Nae tt , that is the dry tornado, the hard clap of li ghtni ng
Naett , co in of go ld, shi ning co al, you my night, my sun !
v
I am your hero and now I ha e become your orcerer, in s
s
,

order t o pro nounce your name .

Princess of Elissa, ba ni shed from Futa on th e fateful day .

Be not Amaz ed
Be not amazed beloved, if sometimes my ong gro s dark, ws
K
If I ex change the lyrical reed for the halam or the tama
An d the green scent of the rice fie lds, for the sw
iftly gallop
ing war drums
s
.

I hear the threats o f an cient deitie , the furious cannonade

o f the g o d

w
.

Oh, tomorrow perhaps, the purple v 01ce of your bard ill

v
be silent for e er .

That is why my rhythm becomes so fast, that th e fingers

K
bleed on the halam
s ss
.

P erhaps , beloved, I shall fall tomorrow, on a re tle earth

Lam entin g your sinking eyes , and the dark tom -tom of th e
mortars belo w
w
.

An d you will weep in the twilight for the glo ing voic e
s
that ang your black beauty .

55
 Davi d Diop

s
Listen comrade o f the str uggling centuries
To the keen clamour o f the N egro from Africa to the
!

Americas
v
They ha e kill ed Mamba
sv
As they killed the e en o f Martinsville
O r the Madagascan down there in the pale light on the
prisons
He held in hi s look comrade s
Th e warm faith of a heart without anguish
s
An d hi s smil e de pite agony
D espite the wounds of hi broken body s
K ept the bright colours of a bouquet of hope
s v
It i true that they ha e killed Mamba with his whi te hairs
s
Who ten times poured forth for u mi lk and li ght
I feel his mouth on my dreams
And the peaceful tremor of hi s breast
And I am lost again
m
Like a plant torn fro the ma ternal bosom
Bu t no
Fo r there rings ou t hi gher than my sorrow s
Purer than the morning where the ild beast wake w s
s s
The cry of a hundred people ma hing their cells
An d my blood long held in exile
s
The blood they hoped to nare in a circle of ord w s
v
Rediscovers the fer our that scatter the mi t s ss
s
Listen comrades of the truggling centurie s
56
 DAV D D I IO P
To the keen clamour of the N egro from Africa to the
Americas
It is the sign of the dawn
Th e sign of brotherhood which comes to nour ish th e
dreams o f men .

Your Presence
In your presence I redisco ered my namev
My name that was hidden under the pain of separation
v
I redisco ered the eyes no lo nger eiled with fe erv v
An d your laughter like a flam e piercing th e shadows
v
Has re ealed Africa to me beyond the snows of yesterday
v
T e n years my lo e
With days of illusions and shattered ideas
And sleep made restless with alcohol
Th e suffering that burdens today with the taste of to

v
And that turns lo e into a b o undless river
v v
In your presence I ha e redisco ered the memory of my
blood
An d necklaces o f laughter hung aro und our days
v
D ays sparkling with e er new joys .

The Renegade
My brother you flash your teeth in response to every
hyp o crisy
My brother with gold-rimmed glasses
s
You give your ma ter a blue eyed faithful look
—

My poor brother in immaculate e ening dres v s

s
Screaming and whi pering and pleading in the parlour s of

condescension
We pity you
Your country s burning sun is nothing but a shadow
’
SE NE G A L
O n your serene civili z ed brow
’

An d the tho ught of your grandmother s hut ’

Brings blushes to your face that is bleached

By years of humiliation and bad conscience
And whi le yo u tramp le on the bitter red oil s
Let these words of angui sh keep time
restless step
Oh I am lonely so lonely here .

Africa my Africa
Africa of s
proud warri ors in ancestral avannah s
Africa of whom my grandmother sings
O n the bank s of the distant river
I have never kn own you
s
Bu t your blood flow in my veins
Your beautiful black blood that irrigates th e fields
w
Th e blood of your s eat
Th e sweat of your work
Th e work of your slavery
s
Th e lavery of your children
Africa tell me Africa
s s
I thi you this back that is bent
This back that breaks un der the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying yes t o the whip under the midday sun
Bu t a grave voice answers me
Impetuous son that tree youn g and strong
That tree there
ss
In splendid loneline amidst white and faded flo er w s
That is Africa your Africa
That grows again patiently ob tinately s
An d its fruit gradually acquir e
Th e bitter taste Of liberty
.
 DAV D D I IO P
The Vultures
In those days
v
When ci ili z ation kicked us in the face
When holy water slapped our cringing brows
v
Th e ultures built in the shad o w o f their talons
Th e bloodstained monument of tutelage
In those days
There was painful laughter o n the metallic hell of the
r Oads

An d the monotonous rhythm the paternoster

of

D rowned the howling o n the plantatio ns

O the bitter memories of ex torted ki sses
O f promises broken at the point o f a gun
Of foreigners who did not seem human
Who knew all the books but did n o t know lo e v
Bu t we whose hands fertilize the womb o f the earth
In spite of your songs o f pride
In spite of the desolate villages o f t o rn Africa
v
Hope was preser ed in us as in a fortress
s
And from the mine of Swaziland to the factorie s of
Europe
Spring will be reborn under our bright steps .

To a B la ck D a ncer

N egress my warm rumour of Africa

My land mystery and my fruit of reas o n
of

You are the dance by the naked joy o f your smile

By the offering o f your breasts and secret powers
Yo u are the dance by the golden tales o f m arriage
By new tempos and m ore secul ar rhythms
N egress repeated triumph o f dreams and stars
v ’
Passi e mistress t o the koras assault
Yo u are the dance of giddyn e ss
By the m agic o f loins restarting the world
Youare the dance

59
S E NE G A L
And the myth burn around me s
Around me the wig of learning s
s
In great fire of j oy in the heaven of your tep s s
You are the dance
s
And burn fal e gods in your vertical flame
You are th e face of th e initiat e
Sacrificing his childhood before the tree-go d
Yo u are th e idea of A11 and th e voice of th e An cient
Gravely rocketed again t our fear s s
You are the Word hi ch explode w s
s w s
In ho er of li ght upon th e hore of oblivion s s .

Nigger Tramp
Yo u who move lik a battered Old d eam
e r

A d eam tran spierced by h blade s of the mi s tral

r t e
By what bitte way s r

By what muddy wandering s of accepted s ffe ing u r

By what caravel s drawing from i sl to i sl e e

Th curtain s of N egro blood torn from Guinea

e

Have you carried your old coat f horn s

‘

o t
T h foreign cemete y wher you read the sky
o t e r e

Ise e in you eyes h d ooping halt s of despair

r t e r

A d dawn re s tarting h
n fi ld and mine s
t e co t t on e s

I s ee S di
o unthe forgotten
at a

A d Chaka the invincibl

n e

Fled to the s eabed with h tale s of s ilk and fi t e re

I s ee ll that
a

Martial mus ic s ounding h call to murder t e

A d belli e s hat bur s t open amid s nowy landscape s

n t

T comfort h fear crouched i h entrail s of citie s

O t e n t e

0 my ld Negro harve s ter f

o k nown land s o un

Land s of spic wher everyon co l d liv

e e e u e

What hav they don wi h h dawn that lifted on your

e e t t e
brow
With your bright s tone s and s abre s of gold
60
Birago Dio p

Dip y h
t c

Th e Sun hung by a thread

In the depths of the C alabash dyed indigo
s
Boil the great Po t of D ay
s
.

Fearful of the approach o f the D aughter of fire

q
Th e Shadow s uats at the feet of the faithful .

Th e savannah is bright and harsh

Al l is sharp , forms and colours
s
.

Bu t in the anguished S ilences made by Rumour

Of tiny sounds, neither hollow nor shrill,
Rises a ponderous Mystery,
A Mys tery muffl ed and formless
Which surrounds and t e rrifie s u s .

Th e dark Loincloth pierced with nai ls of fire

Spread out on the Earth covers th e bed of Night .

Fearful at the approach o f the D aughters of shadow

Th e dog howls , the hors e neighs
Th e Man crouches deep in his hou e s .

Th e savannah is dark
s
,

All is black, forms and colour

s
And in th e angui hed Silence made by Rumours
’

s
s
O f tiny ounds infinite or hollo or sharp w
Th e tangled Paths of the My tery s
Slowly reveal them elve s s
s
For those who et o u t
And for those who return .
 B IR A G O D IO P
Omen
A naked sun a yellow sun
A sun all naked at early dawn
v
Po urs wa es o f go ld over the b ank
O v
f the ri er o f yellow .

A naked s un a whi te sun

A sun all naked and whi te
v
Pours wa es o f sil er v
v v
O er the ri er o f whi te .

A naked sun a red sun

A sun all naked and red
v
Po urs wa es of red blood
Ov v
er the ri er of red .

If we tell gently, gently

v
,

All that we shall on e day ha e t o tell ,

Who then will hear our voices witho ut laughter,

v
Sad complaining oices of beggars
Wh o in deed will hear them without laughter ?
If we cry roughl y of ou r torm ents
v
E er increasing from the start o f thi ngs,
What eyes will watch our large m ouths
Shaped by the laughter of big children
What eyes will watch ou r large mo uths ?

What heart will listen t o our clamo uri ng ?

What ear to ou r pitiful anger
Whi ch grows in us like a tumour
In the black depth of o ur plaintive thr oats ?

When our D ead come with their D ead

v
When they ha e spoken t o us with their clumsy voice s
s
Just a our ears were deaf
53
S E NE G A L
To their crie s
their ild appeal
to w s
s s s
,

Ju t a our ear were deaf

Th e y have left on the earth their crie , s
w
In th e air, on the water, here they have traced their ign s s
s
For u , blind deaf and un orthy Sons w
Who se e nothing of hat they have made w
w w
In th e air, on th e ate r, here they have traced their sign s .

s w
An d ince e did not un der tand our dead s
w
S ince e have never listened to their crie s
If we weep
, gently, gently

If we cry roughly of our torment s

What heart will li ten to our clamouring, s
What ear to our obbing heart ? s s

Ball
s
A croll blue, an e xqui it e thought
of s
s w s
Move up ard in a ecret accord s
s
And the gentle pink e xplo ion th e hade fil t e r s s
D ws w s
ro n a oman perfume in a heavy regret ’
.

Th languor u s lament f h s axophone

e o o t e

Count s a s tring Of trouble s and vagu promise s e

A d jagged
n monotonou s i raucou s cry
or ts
S ome ime s awake s a de sir I had thought d ad
, ,

t e e .

Stop jazz you s can h s ob s and tear s t e

That j ealou s hea t s keep only to them s elve s

,

Stop your s crap iron din Y ur uproar

.

- o
S eem s lik a hug complaint wher cons ent i s born
.

e e e .

Via ticum
In one of th e thr e e pot s
th e thr e e pots to which on certain e ve ning s
th e happy oul return s s
s
th e ere n e breath of th e ance tor , s s
64
 B IRAGO D IO P

th e ancestors who were men,

the forefathers wh o were wi se ,
Mother wetted thr ee fingers,
s
three finger of her left hand
the thumb, the inde x and th e next ;
I too wetted three fingers,
s
three fin ger of my right hand
th e thumb, the index and the next .

With her three finger red ith blood, s w

w ’
ith dog s blood,
with bull s blood,
’

’
with goat s blood,
Mother touched me three time s .

She touched my forehead with her thumb,

With her index my left brea t s
And my navel with her middle finger
s w
.

I too held my finger red ith blood,

’
with dog s blood,
’
with bull s blood,
w ’
ith goat s blood
w s
.

I held my three fingers t o the ind

to the winds of the N orth, to the ind of th e Levant, w s
to the w w s
inds o f the South, to the ind of th e etting sun ; s
and I raised my three finger toward th e Moon, s s
s
toward the full Moon, the Moon full and nak ed
when she rested deep in the largest p ot
w s s s
.

After ard I plun ged mythree finger in the and

in the sand that had gro n cold w
s
.

Then Mother aid, Go into the world, go !

w w
They ill follo your step in life s .
’

Since then I go
I follow the pathway s
the pathways and road s
s
beyond the ea and even farth er,
s
beyond the ea and beyond th e beyond ;
C
 L
SE NE G A

A d whenever I approach h wicked

n t e
with black heart s
,

th Me en

whenever I approach h envious

,

t e

with black he t s
,

h M
t e en ar

b for m move s the Breath of h Ance s tor s

e e e t e .
Gambia
 I
G A MB A

C lawed green-eyed
Feline of night
Palsy-breasted
Selli ng o ld boot
O n wet pavement
In hour glass baskets
—

Coconut bellied
U nyielding copra
Gland exhausted
Whore fatigued
Worm tunnelled so d
-

Prostituted fruit of Eve

Edging the Park trees
Like dancing C aterpillar s
In folded leaves
Softened by Social Conscience
Hounded by Prudes
Friend of the falling star
V ictim of the lonely bed .

We have
We have come home
From the bloodless war
With sunken hearts
O ur boots full of pride
From the true mas saci e of the
'

When we ha e asked
‘
v
What do es it cost
v
To be lo ed and left alone ?
’

v
We ha e come home,
Bringing the pledge
w
Which is ritten in rainbow colour s
Across the sky for burial
70
 L E N RIE P E TE R S

Bu t s
it i not the time
To lay reath w s
s
For ye terday crime s ’
s
N ight thr e aten s
Time di olve ss s
s
An d there i no acquaintanc e
With tomorro w
Echo th e tar s
s
Th e fore t howl s
w
And bet een th e tree s
s
Th e dark un appear s .

W e have come home

When the da n falter w s
s
Singing s ong of other land s
Th e D eath March
Violating our ear s
K w
no ing all our lore and tear s
D etermined by th e spinning coin .

W e have come home

To th e green foothills
T d ink from the y
O r cr

O f w arm and mellow birds ong

T h hot beache s
.

o t e

Where boat s go to s ea ou t

Th eshi ng h ocean s harve s t

r t e
’

A d h hara ss ing plu ging

n t e n
gliding gulls show er kiss e s on h wav s
,

t e e .

W e have come home

Where through th e lightning fla h s
And thundering rain
s
Th e Pe tilence, th e drought
s
Th e odden spirit
s
Linger on th e andy road s
71
 I
G AMB A
s
Sup portin g the tort ur e d remnant
Of the flesh

Of the world
Kwe si Bre w

A Plea for Mercy

s
We have come to your hrine t o or hi pw s
s s
We the on of the land
s
.

Th e nak ed cowherd ha brought

The co ws s afely home,
s ss w
And tand ilent ith his bamboo flute
Wiping the rain from hi s brow ;
s s
As the bird brood in their ne ts
w w s s
Awaiting th e da n ith un ung melodie ;
s ws
The hado s
crowd on the shore
ss s s s
Pre ing their lip again t the bo om of th e
s s s
The p ea ant home from their labour
Sit by their log fires
s
Telling tale of long ago
w s
.

Why shoul d e the son of the land

s
Plead unheede d b efore your hrine,
s
When our hearts are full of ong
s w s ss
And our lip tremble ith adne ?
s
Th e lit t le fire fly vies with the tar,
w
Th e log fire ith th e sun
w s
Th e ater in the calaba h
With the mighty Volta
w
.

Bu t e have come in tattered penury

Be ggmg at th e door of a Master .

75
G HA N A

Th e pa t s
s
I but the cinder s
O f th e pre ent ; s
Th e fut ure
Th e mokes
That e caped s
Into the cloud-bound sky .

Be gentle, b e kind my belove d

s
For word become memorie , s
And memorie tool s s
In the hand of j e ter s s s
s
.

When wise men become ilent,

s
It i because they have read
Th e palms of Chri t s
In the face of the Buddha .

S o look not for wi dom s

An d guidance
In their speech, my beloved
s
.

L e t the ame fir e
Whi ch chastened their tong ue s
Into silence,
T each u s
teach us !
Th e rain came do n, w
When you and I slept away
Th e night s burden of our pa sion
’
s s;
Their n ew-found isdom W
In qui ck lightni ng fla he s s
R evealed the truth
That they had been
s
Th e lave of fo h ls s .
G Aw
. oonor- Williams

S ongs f
o S orrow
D z ogb e se Lisa has treated me thu s
It has led me among the sharp of the fore t s s
Returning is not possibl e
w
And going for ard i a great difficulty s
s w
Th e affair of this orld are like the chameleon faece s
Into whi ch I have tepped s
*
When I clean it cannot go .

’
I am on the world s extreme corner,
s
I am not itting in th e row ith the eminent w
Bu t those who ar e lucky
Sit in the mi ddle and forget
w
I am on the orld s extremé corner ’

I can only go beyond and forget .

My people I have been somewhere

s
,

If I turn here, the rain beat me

If I turn there the sun burn me s
w
Th e fire ood o f this world
s
I for only tho e ho can take hearts w
That is why not all can gather it
s
.

Th e world i not good for anybody

s
Bu t you are o happy ith your fate ; w
s
Ala ! th e traveller are back s
All covered ith debt w .

C ollo qui al : It ! th e fae ce s ! wl il no t g o ! come Off! .

 G . AW O O N O R - WILLI A M S

Something has happened t o me

ss
Th e thing o great that I cannot weep ;
v s s
I ha e no on to fire the gun when I die
And no daughters t o wail when I close my mouth
I have wandered o n the wilderne ss
Th e great wilderness men call life
Th e rain has beaten me,
And the sharp stump cut a keen as knive s s s
s
I hall go beyond and rest .

I have no kin and no brother,

D eath has made war upon our hou e ; s
And e
’
ti s great hou ehold is no more, s
O nly the broken fence stand ; s
And those who dared not look in hi fac e s
Have co me out as men
w
.

How ell their pride is with them

s
.

Let tho e gone before take note

v
They ha e treated their offspring badl y .

What is the wailing for ?

s
Somebody i dead Ago su him elf . s
Alas ! a snake has bitten me
My right arm i broken s ,

And the tree on which I lean is fallen .

Ago su if you go tell them,

T ell Nyide vu , e ti, and ove K
That they have done us e il ; v
T ell them their hou e is falling s
An d the trees in th e fence
Have been eaten by termite ; s
That the martel cur e them s s .

Ask them why they idle ther e

While we suffer, and eat sand,
And the crow and the ulture v
v s
Ho er alway above our broken fence s
s
An d trangers walk over our portion .

79
G H A NA

of Wa r

w
I shall sleep in hite calico ;
War has co me upon the sons of men
And I shall sleep in calico ;
Let the boys go for ard, w
Kp li and his people should go for ard ; w
’
s
Let the white man guns boom,
W e are marching for ard ; w
We all shall sleep in calico .

When we start, the ground shall shake ;

w
Th e ar is within o u r very hut ; s
C owards should fall back
v
And li e at home with t h e women ;
‘

They who go near our ive w s

Whi le we are away in battle
s
Shall lose their calabashe when e come w .

s
Where ha it b e en heard b e fore
That a snake has bitten a child
s
In front o f it own mo ther ;
Th e war 18 upon us
It isw ithin our very huts
An d the sons o f men shall fight it
’
Let the white man guns booms
v
And its smoke co er u s
We are fighting them t o die .

We shall die o n the battle field

We shall like death at n o other place,
O ss
ur gun hall die with us
And ou r sharp knives shall perish ith u w s
We shall die on th e battl efield .
 G . AW O O N O R - WILLI A M S

S ea E a ts the Land a t Home

At home the sea is in the to n, w
Running in and o u t of the cook ing pla ce , s
fi w
C oll ecting the re ood from the he arth s
And sending it back at night ;
Th e sea eats the land at home .

It came o ne day at the dead of night,

D estroying the cement all , w s
And carried away the fowls,
Th e cooking - s
pot and the ladle , s
Th e sea eats the land a t home ;
It is a sad thi ng to hear the ail , w s
s
An d the mourning houts of the women,
s
C alling o n all the god they worship,
To protect them from the angry sea
s s
.

Aku stood out ide where her cooking-p ot tood,

w
With her t o childr en shivering from th e cold,
s
Her hand on her breast,
~

s
Her ancestor have neglected her,
s v
Her god ha e de erted her, s
It was a cold Sun day morning,
s w
Th e torm as raging,
Goats and fowls were strugglin g in the water,
Th e angry water of the cruel ea ; s
Th e lap -lapping of the bark ater at the hore, w s
An d above th e sobs and th e deep and lo moan w s
s
,

Was the eternal hum of the living ea .

It has taken away their belongings

Adena has lost the trink et which s
Were her dowry and her joy,
In the sea that eats the land at home,
Eats the whole land at home .

81
Nig eria
N IGE R IA

Ra in
What time of night it i s
I
do not kno w
Except that like some fish
D
oped out of the deep
I
have bobbed up b e llywise
From stream of sleep
And no cocks crow
s
.

It i drummin g hard here

An d Is s
uppo e every here w
D s
roning with insi tent ardour upon
O ur roof -thatch and shed
And through sheave slit open s
To lighting and rafters
I
cann ot make ou t overhead
w
Great ater drops are dribbling
Fall ing like orange or mango
Frui ts showered forth in th e W l n d
O r perhaps Is
hould ay so s
sI
Much like bead coul d in prayer tell
Them on string as they break
In wooden bowl and earthenware s
s
Mother is bu y now deploying
About our roomlet and floor .

Al though it is so dark
I know her practised tep a
‘

s s
s
She move her bin , bags, and vat s s
O ut of the run of ater w
That like ants filing ou t of the wood
-

Will scatter and gain po se sion s s

O f the floor D o not tremble then
s
.

Bu t turn brothers , turn upon your ide

O f the loosening mat s
w
To here th e o thers li e .

We have drunk tonight of a spell

D
eeper than the owl or bat ’
s ’
s
 JO H N P E P P E R CLARK

That wet of wings may not fly .

Bedraggled upon the ir ok o, they stand

’

Emptied o f hearts and ,

Therefore will no t s t ir, no not ,

Even at dawn for then

They must scurry in t o hide
v
.

S o we ll roll o er o n o u r back
’

And again roll t o the beat

Of drumming all o er the land v
s
And under it ample soothing hand
Joined to that of the sea
w
We ill settle t o sleep of the innocent .

The Imprzsonmenz of Oba tala

s
Those stick-in ect figures ! they rock the dance
Of snakes dart after Him daddy -long arms

s
, ,

Tangle their Ioping stride to mangrove stance

An d He, roped in the tightening pit of alarm s
D angles in His front, full length,
Invincible limbs cramped by lo e of their trength v s .

s
An d that mi chievou s stir late sown spilt
, or

O n h way between homestead and stream

t e

Well s up in pots long s tagnant stilt

,

on

Brim s out where ancestral eyes gleam

,

to

Till angry waves dam His track

And caterpillars riding break their back .

One leap upon the charcoal coloured a - ss

s
Swi hin g ochre urine toward palace and un, s s
Kicking impatient tattoo on the grass ,
s
An d generation unborn pared the rongs w .

Bu t the cry o f a child at what it knows not

s
Evoke trebly there the droop , mud-crack, and clot .

, 87
 N IG RIA
E

So death
being the har est of Go dv
when thi s breath
w
has blo n uncertain abo e the sod, v
what seed, cast out in turmoil
to sprout, shall in despair
not beat the air

w ho falls on rock swamp or th e yielding

In thrall
mute with the soft pad of sheet
hung up on the wall,
I dr aw in my hook-feet
’
h ear the reaper s cry ! th e rap
o f hi s cr ook on the door

but th e poo r
dupe ! opening, hall fin d bat fars s

For Granny ( f m H o s
ropita l)
T ell me, before the ferryman s retur n,
’

w
What was that stirred ithi n your soul ,
O ne night fifteen floods to day,
When upon a dugout
Nlid pilgrim lettuce on th e Niger,
w s
You i th a tart strained me to brea t s
D id you that night in th e raucous voice
s
O f ye terday s rain,’

w
Tumbling do n bank s of r eed
To feed a needl e s tream, s s
Then re cognize the lou d note of uarr el q s
ss
And e ndl e dark ni ght of intrig ue s
In Father s house of many wive ?
’
s
w
O r was it onder at tho e footl e tars ss s s
88
 JO HN L
P EP P ER C A RK
Who in their long translucent fall
Make shall ow silt en floor s
'

Beyond the pale of muddy water s

Appear more plumbless than the kie ? s s

Ibadan ,
running plash of rust s
and gold flung and scattered
v
among se en hills like broken
china in the sun .

Ca ttle
C ontrition t vvine sme lik e a snake
Each time I come upon the ak e w
O f your clan,
U ndul ating along in agony,
s
You face a tool for mystery °

What secret hop e or knowledge,

Locked in your hump away from man,
s
Imbue you with courage
So mute and fierce and wan
That, not demurring nor kicking,
Yo u go t o the house of slaughter ?
Can it be in the forging
Of your gnarled and crooked horn
You d e xperienced pa sion far tronger
’
s s s
s s
Than torm whi ch brim up the N iger ?
s
Perhap , th e drover whip no mor e
’
s
O n your baldi ng hind and crest
s ss
Arou e hock of ecstasy : s
O r lik ely the drunken journey
s
From de ert, through grass and fore t, s
39
N I G RIA
E

To the hun gry town by th e s s ea

D oes call at lea t for re t s s
Bu twill you not fir t vouchsafe t o me, s
A s true the long knife must pre ail, v
The patience of even your tail ?

f
o B ir th

An echo chil dhood talk s before me

of s
v s
like e eni ng hadows on the earth,
rolli ng back into piquant memory
the angui shed cry of my birth ;
O ut of
the caverns of nativity
a voice, I little knew as my own
and thought to have shed ith infancy, w
ret urn sw s ss
ith a harpne before unkno w n

Poor a s taways to thi s darkli g shore

c n
void out f the s ea f eternity
,

o o

and bli d we catch by reflex horror

n

an in s ta t glimp s e the g il t f our see

,

n , u o

Th s oul s f men are s teeped in stupor

e o

who tenants upon this wild isle unblest

sleep on oblivious f its loud nightmar
, ,

o e

with wanton motions bedevilling breast

,

our .

All night th ough i long reache s and black

r ts

I wander a s Io driven by s range pa s sions

,

t
within and out and f rgadfly have at my back
, ,

harrowing shriek of pain and faction s

,

on e

It come s cea s ele ss a s from h wilderne ss ! t e

commingled with h vague cogitation t e

of the s ea its echo of de spair and s tre ss

prec des me lik e a shade to h horizon
,

e t e .
 JO H N P E P-P E R L
C A RK
Abthu
'

C oming v
and going these se eral seasons,
D o stay o u t on the baobab tree
s
,

Follow where you please your kindred Spirit

If indoors is not enough for you
s
.

True, it leak through the thatch

When floods brim the bank s,
An d the bats and the o wls
O ften tear in at night thro ugh the eaves,
An d at harmattan, the bamboo walls
Ar e ready tinder for the fire
That dries the fresh fish up on the rack .

Still, it s been the healthy stock

’

To several fingers , to many more will be

Who reach to the sun .

No longer then bestride the threshold

Bu t step in and stay
For good We know the kni fe -scars
.

S errating down your back and front

Like be ak o f the sword-fish,
And b o th your ears notched
,

As a b ondsman to this house,

Ar e all relics of your first comings .

Then step in step in and stay

,

For her body is tired ,

Tired, her milk go ing sour

Where many more mouths gladden the heart .

91
Gab rie l Okara

The S nowflakes S ail Gently Dw o n

‘

s w
Th e no flakes sail ge ntly
w
do n from th e mi ty e ye of th e sky s
and fall lightly li ghtly on the
w w s
int e r- eary elm And th e branche s
w s w
.

inte r- tripp e d and nude , slo ly

w ith th e weight of th e we ightle no ss s w
- s
bow like grief tricke n mourne r s
w
as hit e funeral cloth i slowly s
unrolled over deathl e e arth ss
s s
.

And dead leep tealthily from th e

s
heater ro e and clo ed my e ye with s s
the touch of silk cotton on ater falling w .

Then I d eamed a dream

r

i my dead sleep B
n I dreamed ut

not f earth dying and lm s a vigil

.

o e

k eping I dreamed f birds black

e o

s s
.
,

bird flying in my inside , ne ting

and hatching on oil pahn s b earing un s s
s s
l

for fruit and with root denting the

uprooter s s
pades And dreamed th e
’
I
s s
.

up roote r tired and limp, leaning on my root

th e ir abandoned root s
and th e oil palms gave them e ach a sun .

Bu ton their palms

they balanced the blinding orb s
N I G RIA
E

crescendo Bu t lost in the labyrinth

s
.

o f its complexities , it end in the mid dl e

o f a phrase at a dagge rp oin t .

And I lost in the morning mi t s

of an v s
age at a ri er ide keep
wandering in th e mystic rhythm
o f jungle drums and the concerto .

Were I to Choose
When Adam broke the stone
s
and red treams raged do n to w
an angel calm ed the storm ;
And I , th e breath mewed
in C ain, unblink ing gaze
at the world without
from the brink of an age
s
That draw from the groping
a breast-muted cry
to thread th e year s
s
.

(0 were I to choo e)
And no w th e clo
one s e of

and thirty turn , the world s

o f bones is Bab e l, and

sw
_

the different tongue ithin

s
are flame th e head

And 0 of t s
hi dark halo
w ere the tire d head free .

And when th e harmattan

 GABR I L O K ARA
E

s
and kin, and sucked the fever
of the head away ,

Then the ma si e dark s v

s s
de cend , and flesh and bone
are razed An d (0 were I
w s
.

to choose) I d cheat the orm’

s
and ilence seek in tone s .

Mystic Drum
Th e m y tic s
drum beat in my in ide s
s
and fi hes danced in the river s
and men and women danced on land
to the rhyth m of my drum
Bu tstandi g behind a tree
n
with leaves around her waist
she o l y smiled wi h a shake of her head
n t .

Still my drumcontinued t o beat,

rippling the air ith qui ckened w
tempo compell ing the qui ck
and the dead t o dance and ing s
w ith th eir h adow s s
Bu tstanding behind a tree
with leaves around her waist
she only smiled with a shake of her head .

Then the drum beat with the rhythm

of the thing of the groun d s
and invoked the eye of the ky s
s
the un and the moon and the river god s
and the trees began to dance,
the fishes turned men
and men t urned fi hes s
and thing topped to gro ss w
95
N I G RIA
E

Bu tstandin g behind a tree

v
with lea es around her waist
s w
he only smiled ith a shake of her head .

And then th e mystic drum

in my inside stopped t o beat
and men became men,
fishes became fishes
and trees , the s un and the moon
foun d their places and the dead ,

went t o the ground and things began to grow .

And behi nd th e tr e e he stood s

w ith roots sprouting from h er
s
feet and leave growing on her head
and smoke issuing from her nose
and her lips p arted in h er mile s
v
t urned ca ity belchin g darkne s s .

Then, then I packed my mystic drum

an d t v
urned away ; ne er to beat o loud any more s .

Adhia mbo
I he ar many voice s
’
s
like it s ai d a madman hear ; s
I hear trees talking
like it s sai d a medicine man h ear
’
s .

Maybe I m a madman ’
,
’
I m a me di cine man .

Maybe I m mad ’

v
,

for the oices are lurin g me,

urging me from the midni ght
moon and the silence of my desk
to walk on wave crest across a sea s .

Maybe I m a medicine man

’

hearin g talking saps,

N I G RIA
E

th e s
in tinct vital call, ’
s
s
a de ire in a million cell s '

confined .

O Go d of the god and me s

shall I h ed
,

n ot e

this prayer bell call the noo —

n

angelu s becau s my s tork i s caged

,
’

Dark Skin ?
,

in Sin ged Hair and

One Night at Victoria Beach

Th ewind come s ushing from the s ea r

h wave s curling like mamba s s trike

,

t e
h s nd s and recoiling his s
t e a rage in

washing h Al d feet pres sing hard

t e a u ras
’

h s and and with eyes fixed hard

on t e

on what o l y hearts can see they shouting

n ,

pray, the Aladu ras pray ; and coming

from b ooth s behi nd, compelling highl ife
‘

s s
force e ar ; and car lights startl e pair s
arm in arm p assmg wa her ords back
- s w
and forth like haggling sellers and buyer s
Still they pray, the Aladuras pray
w s
ith hand press ed again t their heart s s
and their whi te robe s pre sed against s
s
their bodie by the wind ; and drinking
w
palm- ine and beer, the people boast
at bars at the beach Still they pray . .

They pray, th e Aladu ras pray

w
to hat only hearts can se e hile dead w
fishermen long dead with bones rolling
nibbled clean by nibbling fishes, follo w
four dead cowries shining like stars
into deep sea where fishes sit in judgement ;
 GABR I L O KA RA
E

andv li ing fishermen in dark hut s

sit ro und dim lights with Babalawo
w s
thro ing their ouls in fo ur cowrl e s
on sand, trying t o see tomorrow .

Still, they pray, the Aladu ras pray

s s
to what only heart can ee behind
the curling wav e s and the sea, the star s
s
and the ubduing unanimity of the sky

and their white bones beneath the and s .

And standing dead on dead ands, s

I felt my knees touch living sand s
s w
but the ru hing ind killed the budding words .

99
Frank Aig Imoukhu e de

One Wife for One Man

I do ne try go church, I do ne go for court
De m all day talk about di new cul ture : ‘ ’

D e m talk about e uality dem me ntion divo rce q ’

,
’

D e m holler am so -tay my ear nearly cut ;

O
ne wife be for one m an .

My fader before my fader get hi m wife b o rku *

q v v
.

E no get e uality pala er ; he li e well

’

For he be fo r im own ho use

W
.

Bu t dat time done pass befo re hite man c o m e

Wit im ’

One wife for one man .

T ell m e how una i wo man no go make yanga !

Wen e kno w say na irn onl y dey
’ ’
.

Suppose say 1 m ake Go d no gree e n o b o rn at all ?

’ ’

A tell you dat man bin dey crazy wey start

’

O
ne wife fo r one man .

Jus tell m e how o ne wife t do o n e man ;

’
fi
fi
Ho w go t stay all tim e fo r him house
For time when bell eh done k omm o t
fi
.

How many pickin self on e wo man t b o rn

’
, ,

Wen one wife be for on e man ?

pl y T
ypd
e nt .

ri
o ga

e , and p
m as ter
erversit
or

y
L d or .
t un a v ariation o f
‘
y
ou r
’
.

v anit ,
.
Mi chael E cheruo

Left hand is God s hand ’

v
D e il s hand acro ss chaos
’

When Eve began

s s
Wa her in Eden farm
Through cats tiger s fur
!
’ ’

Thr o ugh Adam s core

’
.

Mul tiply and till the earth

Plough on virgin land is temptation .

And there was a fountain

O f rain and grain
w
.

Force fountain do n gorge

Into valley o f shoots
Is no t spilling
Bu t will not bloom on Martha
O r Vita N uova
Eat apples by the left hand,
s
Much weeter Right han d .

Is Right s h and, bitter,

’ ‘

Sweet gorge le ss Sophia .

1 02
C hristopher Okigbo

From L ament of the L avender Mist

Love Apar t
Th e moon ha s s
a cended bet een u w s
w
Bet een two pines
That bow to each other

Love with the moon has a cended s

s
s s
Has fed on our olitary tem

A d we are now shadows

n
That cling to each the O r

B ki ss the air only

ut .

s
Eight po e m from Heavensga te

B eforeyou, mother Idoto,

naked I tand, s
w
before your atery pre ence, s
a prodigal,

leaning on an o ilb ean,

s
lo t in your legend .

Under your power wait I

on barefoot,
1 03
N I G RIA
E

watchman for the watch ord w

at h eave nsgat e ;
the depths my
ou t o f cry

give ear and hearken .

Wa tch the S tars

Eyes open on the beach,
eyes open, of the prodigal ;
upward t o hea en shootv
where stars will fall from .

v
Wh ich secret I ha e told into no car ;

into a du gh ole t o hold,

not t o drown with
v
Whi ch secret I ha e planted into b e ach sand;
breaks
no w

s alt-white surf on the stone and me,s

and lobsters and shells in
io di ne smell
maid of the salt-emptine , ss
so ph iSt icr e amy, native,

whose s e cret I have covered up with b e ach sand.

Shadow of rain
s
over unbeaten beach,
shadow of rain
v w w
o er man ith oman .

Bright
with the armpit dazzle of a lione ss
s s
,

she an wer ,
wearing white light about her ;
 N I G RIA
E

I have isited,v
on palm beam imprinted
my pentagon
I have visited, the prodigal .

In pahn grove
long drums and cannon s
th e spirit in the ascent .

Passi on Flower
And the flower weep s
unbruis e d,
La crima e Christi,

For hi m who was silenced ;

whose advent
dumb bells in the dim light celebrate
"

with wine ong s

Messiah will come again ,

After the argument in heaven ;

s
Me siah will come again,

s
Finger of penitence
bring
t o a palm gro e v
vegetable offering

s
finger of chalk .

S o woul d I to the hill again s

so woul d I
to w here springs the foun tain
there to dra fromw
1 06
 C HR I OPH
ST ER O IG O
R B

and t o hilltop clamber

body and oul s
w hi tewashed in the moondew
there to see from
So would I from my eye the mi t s
so would I
through moonmist to hilltop
there for th e cleansing

s
Here i a new laid egg -

here a white hen at midterm .

s
I am tanding above you and tide
v
abo e the noontide,
Listening to the laughter of water s
that do not know W hy :
s
Li tening t o in cen se .

s
I am tanding above the noontide
w
ith my head above it,
U nder my feet float the water s
tide blo ws
them under .

Four poems from Limits

themortar is not yet dry .

Suddenly becoming talkative

like weaverbird
'

Summoned at o fl side of
dream remembered
Between sleep and waking,
I h ang
'

up my egg-shell s
To you of palm grove,
1 07
N I G RIA
E

Upon who s e bamboo towers hang

D ripping with y pwi e st e ru ne

A tiger ma sk and nude spear

! ueen o f the damp half -light

,

I have h ad my cleansing,
w
Emigrant ith airborne no e, s
The h e -goat -on-heat .

Fo r s s
he wa a hrub among the poplar s
Needing more roots
More sap to grow to sunlight
Thirsting for sunlight

A low g owth among the forest

r .

Into the s oul

Th s elves extended heir branche s
e t
Into the moment s f each living hour
o

Feelin g for audience

Straining thin among the echoes ;
An d out the olitude
of s
Voice and soul with elves un ite s
Riding the echoe s
Horsemen o f the apocalyp e s
And crowned with self on e

Th e name displays its foliage,

Hanging low
A green cloud above the fore t s .

Banks of
reed
s
.

Mountain of broken bottles .

1 08
N I G RIA
E

w s
the dream ake
the voice fade s
In the damp half-light,
s
Like a hado , w
Not leaving a mark .

An image insist s
from the flag-pole of the heart,
Th e image distracts
w ith the cruelty of th e ro e s .

My lione ss
s s
,

(No shield i lead plate again t you)

-

w
Wound me ith your sea eed face w
s
,

Blinded lik e a trongroom .

Distances of your
armpit-fragrance
Turn chloroform,
enough for my patience
When you have fini hed, s
done up my stitches,
Wake me near th e altar,
this poem will be finished .

I IO
Telephone Conversa tion
s
Th e price eemed rea onable, location s
Indifferent Th e landlady
. ore he lived sw s
O ff premise s Nothing re mame d
s s w
.

Bu t elf-confe s ion Madam, I arned,

‘ ’

w
.

‘
I hate a asted journey I am African ’

s ss
.

Silence Silenced tran mi ion of

w
.

Pressurized good-breeding Voice, hen it came, .

-
Lipstick coated, long gold rolled
C igarette -holder pipped Caught I a , foully ws
R OU
. .

Ho w D A K?
’ ‘
‘
I had not misheard AR E Y .

L IGH T

O R VE RY D A R K ? ’
Button B Button A
Stench . .

O f rancid breath Of pu b lic ide and speak

- - .

Re d booth R e d pillar box R e d double -tiered—

O s sq
. .

mni bu uelching tar It was real ! Shamed

By ill -mann ered silence, urrender s
Pushed dumbfounde d to beg implification s
w s
.

C onsiderate she as , varying the emphasi

‘
AR E Y O U D A K ? O R V E R GH T? R evelation cam e RY L I ’
.

You mean like plain or milk chocolate ?

‘ ’

Her assent was clinical, crushi ng in its light

s
Imper onality Rapidly, wave -l ength adju ted,
. s
I chose West African sepia
.
‘
and as afterthought, ’

D own in my passport Silence for sp e ctrO SCOp i c

‘ ’

s
.

Flight of fancy, till truthfulnes clanged her accent

Hard on the mouthpiece H A T S T H A T? concedin g .
‘
W ’ ’

III
N IG RIA E

‘
DO K OW W A A
N T
’
N Like brunette
H T TH T IS
’

D ARK I
. .

? N
‘ ’ ’ ’ ‘
TH AT s altogether
, SN T 1T ot .

Facially I am br ette but madam you sho l d see

un u

Th re s t f me P alm Of my hand soles f my feet

, , ,

e O O

A a peroxide blonde Friction cau s ed

.
,

re

Fooli shl y madam by sitti g down has rned

.
,

n , tu

My bottom raven black O ne moment madam ! ’

sensing
Her re ceiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ear s
Madam, I ple aded, ‘ ’ ‘
wouldn t ’
you
rather
S ee for yourself ? ’

D ea th in the Dw
a n

Travell er you mu t ets s ou t

A dawn A d wipe your fe t upon

t n e

Th dog no s e w etne s s of the a th

.

e - e r .

L su is e quench your lamps A d watch

et nr n

Faint brush prickling in the sky light

.

Cottoned feet to break the early earthworm

On the hoe N w s hadow s st etch wi h sap o r t

wilight s death and sad pros tration

.

N
’
ot t

Thi s s oft k indling s oft r ceding br d s

.

e ee

Racing joys and apprehension s f

,

or

A naked day Bu dened hulk s retract r

Stoop to the mi s t i facele s hrong

. ,

n s t

T wake the s ilent market s swift mute

O

Proce ssion s grey byways O n thi s

,

on

terpane it wa s
.

Co un

Sudden wint r at h d ath

,

e t e e

Of dawn s lone tr mpeter C ascade s

’
u .

Of white feather-fl ak e s but it proved

A futil e rite Propitiation sped
.

I IZ
N I G RIA
E

s
No w, you r blood d op are - r

My sadnes s in the haze f day o

A d the sad dew at dawn fragile

n ,

D w braidi g riv l ts in hair roots where

e - n u e -

D e s ires storm Sad sad

Your feather tear r nning i cleft s betw ee
.
,

- u n n
Thorned buttresses soon gone my need
Mu s t d i k it all B then s
, ,

r n . e a

Th e dry sad an , and I may yield me

As th e rain .

S O letyour p alm, ridge to ridge

Be cupped with mine
s
An d th e thin ad earth bet een will nurtur e w
Love s misfoundling and there it ended
’
.

Storm-whispers swayed you outward where

O nce, we cupped our hands Alone I watched ; .

The earth came sifting through .

I shall sit Often on the knoll

An d watch the grafting
s
.

This di membered limb must come

Some day
To sad frui tion .

I shall weep dryly on the to ne s

s
That mark the graveh e ad ilence of s
A t amed re olve s .

I shall sit often on the knOll

s
Till longing crumble too
O I have felt the termite nuzzle
White entrails
An d fine ant wither s
s
.

In the mind unthr eaded maze

’
.

Then may you frolic where the head

Lies shaven, inherit all,
1 14
 WOL E S O Y I N KA
D eath-watches , cut your b eetled caper s
On loam-matted hairs I know this .

Weed-usurped knoll The graveyard now

s s
.

Wa nur ery t o her fears .

This cup I bore, redeem

When yearning splice
Th e torn branch .

Thi s earth I pour ou ward to t

‘

Your cry tend it It knows f ll u

Wor ship f the plough

, .

Le s t bu ni g follow breath learn

.

r n
This air wa s tempered i wild
,

n
C adences of fire .

NO phoenix I Submi ssion

s
.

To her cleansing flame fii lfille d

Um
’
s legacy .

Ye t incandescing wa the roar alone s

Sun -searin g
haze pool lit th e kiln s s
That bronzed me .

s
It i peace to settle on life fin gers ’
s
v s s
Like bran ; illusi e a the trained meal s ’

Bloodles sseparateness .

B s till A d when thi s cup w ould cru sh

e n
Th lightnes s of your ha d build no sh in
.

e n r e

Strew the a shes

,

your path on .

Prisoner
s
Grey , to the low gras cropping
Slung wet lichened wisp s from -

Smoke heavines s elu s ive of thi n

, ,

Curl inward to the earth, bre ed

Th e grey hours,

115
N I G RIA
E

And days , and year for do not s

s
,

Th e wise grey temple we must build

To febrile years here begin, not
s
,

In tears and ashe , but on the sad mockin g

v
Threads , compul si e of the hour ?

In the desert wildness , when lone cact u s,

v v
,

C annibal was hi s lo e e en amidst the

Crag and gorge, the leap and ni ght -tremors
v
E en as the potsherd stayed and the sandstorm
Fell intimati o ns came .

In the whorled centre Of the torm, a thr enody s

Bu t not from this For that far companion,
.

Made sudden stranger when the wind slacked

And the centre fell, grief And the stricken
s s
.

Potsherd lay, di scon olate intimation then

Bu t
not from these He knew onl y
q
.

Sudden seizure And time con uest

s s
.

Bound him helples to each grey e sence

s
.

Nothing remained if pain s and longing

Once, once set the walls Sadne . ss
Closed him , rootless, lacking caus e .

I Think it Ra ins
I think it rain s
That to ngues may loosen from th e parch
U ncleave roof-top s of the mouth, hang -

Heavy with knowledge .

I saw it raise
Th e sudden cloud from ashes S ettling
w
, .

They joined in a ring Of grey ; ithin

Th e circling spirit .

0 it must rain
s
These closure on t h e mind, binding u s
1 16
N I G RIA
E

s
Your hand i heavy, Night, upon my bro w
s
,

I bear no heart mercuric like the cloud , to

Exacerbation from your subtl e plough .

Woman a a clam on s th e s a s cr scent

e
’
e

sw s quench h s ea s
,

I a your j ealou e ye t e
’

s
Fluore cence , dance on h pul s in e ss nt
t e e c a

Of th e waves stood drained

An d I
lik e the s and s blood and b i
.
,

Sub mitting r ne

Cour sing h roo s Night you rained

,

to t e t .
,

Serrated shadows through dank l ave s e

Till bathed in warm suffu sion of your dappled cell s

S ns a ions pained m fac le ss s ilent a s night thieve s
,

e t e, e , .

Hide me now when night chil d en haunt h a h r t e e rt

I mu s t hear non ! The s e mis ted call s will yet
,

Undo m ; nak ed unbidden Night s mut d

e , , at
’
e

Abiku
In vain your bangle ca t s s
Charmed circle at my feet s
I am Abik u, calling for th e fir s t
And th e repeated time .

Mus t I weep for goats and wrie s co

For palm il and h sprinkled a sh ?

O t e

Yam s do not sprout i amul t s n e

T earth Ab ik limb s
’
o u s .

So when h s n il i s burnt in hi shell

t e a s ,

Whet the heated fragment brand me

D eeply on h brea s t Y mu s t know him
,

t e . ou

When Ab iku calls again .

1 18
 WOL E S O Y I NK A
I am the squirrel teeth, cracked
Th e riddle of the palm R emember.

This and dig me deeper still into

,

Th e god s swollen foot

’
.

Once and the repeated time ageless ,

Tho ugh I puke ; and when you pour

Libations each finger points me near
,

Th e way I came where,

Th e gro un d is wet with mourning

Whi te dew suckles fl e sh -birds
Evening befriends the spider, trapping
Flies in wind-froth ;
Night , and Ab iku sucks th e oil

From lamps Mothers ! I ll be the

.
’

Suppliant snake coiled on t h e doorst e p x

Yours the ki lling cry .

Th e ripest fruit was saddest ;

Where I crept, the warmth was cloyi ng
s
.

In the silence of webs , Ab ik u moan , shap i ng

Mounds from the yolk .

1 19
Tchi caya U Tam si
’

Brush-fire
v
Th e fire the ri er that s to say
’

the sea t o drink followmg the sand

the feet the hands
w ithi n the heart t o love
v
this ri er that lives in me repeoples
only to you I said around the fire

my race
it flows here and there a ri er v
the flames are the looks
o f those who brood upon it

I said t o you
my ra ce
remember s
s
th e ta te of bronze drun k hot .

D ance to

C ome v
o er here
s
o u r gra s 18 rich

come you fawns

s
gestures and stabs Of ickly hand s
v
cur ing then unripping of conception
on e who ? you shape my fate
come you fawn s
1 23
C O NG O ( B R A ZZA V ILL E )
over here the supplene of mornin g ss s
and the blood masked here
w
and the rainbo -coloured dream th e rope at the neck
come over here

ss s
our gra i rich here
s
my fir t coming
ws s
a the har h explo ion of a flint s
solit ude
my mother promi ed me to light s .

I was playing
when my dead sist r e

my knife -grandfath e r
my grandfather hung
a great fi h s
on a tre e before o ur gate .

W e adored mes
aub e rg

I devoured th e little gourd s

but I had t o fa t s
if Itell you
my father doe not kno s w my mo h r s nam
t e
’
e

w ss
I am th e itne of my age

I have Often een s

ss
carca e in th e air
w here my blood burn s .

A Ma t to Weave
he cam e to deliver the ecret of th e sun s
w w
and anted to rit e th e poem of his life
C ON G O ( B R A ZZA V ILL E )
s
the gr ain of sand between th e teeth
s
is it thu that one break the orld s w
no

no
s
hi s tream was the gentles t of cup s
h safest
t e
it wa s his most livi g flesh n

here begins the poem of hi life s

s
he wa trained in a chool s
he was trained in a studio
s s
and he aw road planted ith phinxe w s s
still he i s left with the s oft arch
his laughter of

then the tree then th e water then the leave s

that is why you il l see him w

s
the marching canoer have rai ed once more s
s
againt th e hauler Of french cott on s
their cries
s
th i flight is a fli ght of dove s
the leeche did not k no s w the bitte ness r

o f th i bloods
s
in th e pure t of cup s
dirty gollywog
behold my congole e h ead s
it i s th e s
pure t of cup s .

1 26
Con go ( Léo p o l dv i ll e )
C O N G O ( L EO P OL D ILL V E )
wait while I put on my brow my mask of blood
and soon you will see
my tongue flutter like a banner .

A Fistful f News
o

Th e hills hunch their back s

and leap ab o ve the marshes
that wash about the calabash
of the Great Soul

Rumours of treason spread

li ke burning swords
th ev eins of the earth
s well with no urishing blood
the earth bears
v
towns illages hamlets
fo rests and wo ods
peo pled with m onster s ho rned and tentacled
their long manes are the mirro r of the Sun

they are those wh o when night has come

direct the regiments of bats
and wh o sharpen their arms
upon the sto ne of horror .

the s o uls Of the guilty

float in the currents Of air
on the galleys of di saster
q
.

paying no heed t o the uarrels of the earthbound

with fangs of re fi
they tear from the lightning its diamond heart .

Surely the scorn is a go bbet o f smoking flesh

surely the spirits recite the rosary o f engeance v
but like the black ear of wickedness
v v
they ha e ne er under sto o d a single word

1 30
 A NT OI N E -R OG ER B OL A M BA

’
of the scorpion s Obscure tongue

nor the anger of the snake-wizard

nor the vi o lence Of the throwing-kni fe
can do anything again st it .

131
Agu inaldo Fonseca

A distant glimmer
And a beacon spitting light
In the black face of night .

v
E erything is brine and yearning .

w v
Winds ith wa es on their back
Make tremble the tavern
Which is an anchored ship .

v s
Lo e pa sionate and brutal
Ami dst the o pen knives
An d the abandon
O ’
f a prostitute s embrace .

Upon the air d e sp airing s rise

In heavy swells of smoke .

Bottles, glasses , bottles

O h ! the thirst of a sailor
Tatt o oin g s pricked skin on

Proclairn the pain and the bravado

Of escapades in ports .

Me n o f ev ery race ,

Me n without ho m eland or name

Just men of the sea
v
With oice of salt and wind
An d ships in unclouded eyes .

I3 S
CA PE VE R D E I LA
S NDS

Bo redo mand lo nging appear

Chewing o n aged pipes
Appear and then depart
Staggering Off with a drunk .

Cards , tables and chairs,

s
,

Bo ttles, glasses , b o ttle

v
An d the ta ern -keeper s face
’

q
Stirring up ancient uarrels .

v
And e eryt hi ng is full of sin
An d ev erythi ng is full Of sleep
ev erything is full of sea !

1 36
Aldo d o p
E s irit o Sant o

Where a re the Men S eiz ed in this Wind of Madness ?

Blood falling in drops to the earth
men dying in the fore t s
and blood fallin g, falling
s
o n those ca t into the sea .

F e rn fio D ias for ever in the story

Of Ilh a V erde, red with blood,

of men struck down

in the vast arena Of the quay .

Alas the quay the blood, the men,

,

the fetters, the lash of beatings

resound, resoun d, re oun d s
dro pping in the silen ce of prostrated live s
Of cries, and howls of pain
from men who are men no more,
s
in the hand Of nameles butchers s
s
.

Z é Mul ato, in the tory of the quay

shooting men in the silence
of bodi es falling .

Alas Z é Mulato, Z é Mul ato,

Th e victims cry for vengeance
Th e sea th e sea Of Fernao D ia s
v s
,

de ouring human live

is bloody red .

We are arisen
O ur eyes are turned to you
O v
.

ur li es entombed
I39
s Ao T O ME
s
in field Of death,
men of the Fifth of February
men fall en in the furnace of death
!

il nploring pity
screaming for li fe,
dead without air, without water
they all ari e s
from the common grave
and upright in the choru of ju tice s s
cry for vengeance
s s
.

Th e fall en bodie in th e fore t,

the homes, th e home of men s
destroyed in the gulf
of ravening fire,
lives incinerated,
s s
rai e the unaccu tomed chorus Of justice
crying for vengeance .

An d all you hangme n

all you torturer s
s ittin g in the dock
What have you done ith my people ? w
What do you an wer s
s
Where i my people ?
And I answer in the ilence s
s s
Of voice rai ed
demanding justice .

One by one, through all the line .

For you, tormentors ,

ss s
forgivene ha no name
s s
.

Ju tice hall b e/h eard

s
.

An d the blood of live fallen

ss
in the fore t of death,
innocent blood
drenchi ng the earth
in a silence of terrors
shall make the earth frui tful,
crying for justice .

1 40
Ango l a
 ANG OL A
who thi rst
wh o are ashamed tocall you mother
s
who are afraid to cross the treets
who are afraid of men

s
It is our elves
the hope of life recovered .

.
146
Antonio Jacinto

Monangamba
O n that big estate there i s
rainno

it s the sweat of my brow that waters th e crop

’
s
O n that big estate there is coffee ripe
and that cherry-redness
is drops of my blo od turned sap .

The coffee will be roasted,

ground, and cru shed,
will turn black, black with the colour of the contra ta do .

Black with the colour of the cont ra t a do !

s
Ask the bird that sing,
the streams in carefree wandering
and the high wind from inland :

W ho gets up early ? W h o go es to toil ?

Who is it carries o n the long ro ad
the hammock or bunch of kernels ?
Who reaps and for pay gets scorn
rotten maiz e, rotten fish
‘

ragged clothes fifty a ng ola res

,

beating fo r biting back ?

Who ?
W ho m akes the millet gro w
and the orange groves to flower ?
Wh o ?
1 47
A NG OL A
v
Wh o gi es the money for the boss to
cars , machinery, women
and N egro heads for the motors ?
Wh o makes the white man prosper ,

gr w big belli ed
o - get much money ?
Wh o ?
And th e birds that sing,
the streams in carefree wanderi ng
and th e high wind from inland
will answer
Monangamb e e e e .

Ah ! Let me at least climb the palm tree s

Let me drink wine, palm wine
and fuddled by my drunk ne ss forget
Monangamb e ee .

1 48
Mazisi Kune ne

To the Proud
w
In the twirlingnn ou nt ains overhung ith mist
Foretell No dongo the pro ud name of the subse uent hour q s
s
Since, when yo u beat the lo ud mu ic o f your win gs ,
Th e secret night creeps underneath the mea ured time s .

When you behold the fixe d bulk of the sun

Jubilant in its uncertain festivals
K now that the symbol o n which you stand hall ani h s v s
Now that the dawnmg awaits us with her illusions .

Assemble the little hum of your pealing boast

For the sake of the reward meted to S o mnde ni
Who sat abundantly pride-flowing
s v
T ill the passer -b y vulture of heaven o ertook him .

We who stood by yo u pov erty s tricken

-

Shall abando n you to the insanity of licence

An d fo llow the Winding path
s
Where the wisdo m granarie hold increase .

Then shall your nakedness sho w

T easing you before the unashamed sun .

Itching you shall unfurl the night

s
Bu t we the ons of Time shall be our parent s ’
race .

151
S OU TH I
A FR C A

The E choes
O ver the vast summer hills
I shall commi ssio n the maternal un s
To fetch yo u with her long tilted rays ,

Th e slo w heave o f th e valleys

Will once again roll the hymn of accompaniment s
Scattering the glitter o f the milky way over the bare fields .

You will meet me

Underneath the shadow of the timeless earth
Where I lie weaving the season s .

You will indulge in the sway dances of your kin

To the time of symphonic flute s
Ravishing the identity Of water li lie s .

v
I ha e Opened the mountain gates
S O that the imposin g rim
s
O f the Ruwenzori hall steal your image .

Even the bubbling lip O s

f continent s
(To the shy p ahn s of Libya)
Shall awake the long forg otten age
- .

v
Th e qui ering waters of the Z ambezi river
s
Will bear on a ilvery blanket your name
Leading it t o the echoing Of th e s ea .

Let me not love you alone

Lest th e essence of your being !

Lie heavy on my tongue

s
When you count o many to praise .

Farewell
O beloved farewell .

Hold these leaping dreams of fire

s
With the keletal hand Of death s
1 52
Bloke Modisane

s
it get awfully lonely,
lonely ;
like screamin g
s
,

creaming lonely ;
s creaming down dream alley,
s creamin g of blues like none can
,

but you hear me clear and loud

echoing loud ;
like it s fo r yo u I scream
’
.

I talk to myself when I write,

s hout and scream to my elf, s
then to myself
scream and shout
shouting a prayer ,

screaming no ises ,

knowing thi s way I tell

w
the orld about still lives ;
e ven maybe

just t o scream and shout .

s
i it I lack the musician 8 contact
direct ?
or, is it true the writer
,

creates
W
(except the trini ty i th Go d the machine and he)
,

1 54
 B LO K E M O D IS AN E

incestuous silhou ettes

t o each other scream and shout,
s
to me shout and cream
pry and mate ;
s s
inbred deformitie of lonelin e s .

1 55
 d Rubadiri
D avi

African Thunderstorm
Fro m the west
C lo uds come hurrying ithw
Turning
Sharply
Here and there
Like a plague o f locust s
T ossing up things its tail
on

Like a madman chasing nothi ng .

Pregnant cl o uds
Ride stately on its back
Gathering t o perch o n hills
Like dark sinister wings ;
T h e Wind whistles by
And trees bend to let it pass .

v
In the illage
Scream s of delighted children
To ss and turn
In the din o f whirling wind,
Wo men
Babies clinging o n their b ack s
D art about
In and o u t
Madly
T h e Wind whistl es by
Whilst trees bend t o let it pa ss .

I S9
NY A SA L AND
Cl othe s wave like tattered flags
To expo s e dangling brea s t s
A j gg
s a d blinding flashe s
e re

Rumble tremble and crack

Ami d s t h s mell of fired s mok
, ,

t e e

A d h pelting march f h s torm

n t e o t e .

1 60
J
o hn Mbiti

York S kyscrapers
The weak s cattered rays of yellow sun
P eeped h ough the hazy ti ssue s
t r
That blanketed th m with ran sparent wax ;
e t
A d a s the wrinkled rays lo s ed the day
n C ,

Smoky chimneys of N w York coughed

e

Looking down in bended tower s

A d vomited s ad tear s f dark s mok
n o e.

1 63
Jo se ph K arinki

Away, my L ove
C ome v
away, my lo e, from streets
Where unkind eyes di i de, v
An d shop windows reflect our difference .

In th e shelter o f my faithful room rest .

There, s afe from Opinions , being behi nd

Myself I can see onl y you ;
,

An d in my dark eyes your grey

wmdissolve
s
.

Th e candlelight throw
Two dark shadows on the wall
Wh ich merge into on e as I close beside
s
When at last the light are ou t,
And I feel your hand in mine ,

Two human breaths j oin in one,

And the piano weave s
Its unchallenged harmony .

1 64
José Crave irinha

The S eed is in Me
D ead or living
the seed is in me
v
in th e uni ersal whitene ss of my bone s
All feel
uneasine ss
at the undoubted whiteness of my bones
white as the breasts of Ingrids or Maria s
v
in S candina ian land s
or in Polan a the smart quarter
v
Of my old nati e town .

All feel
uneasine ss
that the mingling in my veins hould be s
v
blood fro m the blo od of e ery blo od
and instead of the peace ineffable o f pure and simple birth
and a pure and simple death
breed a rash of complex es
s
from the eed of my bones .

Bu t a w v
night ith the massale iras hea y with green fruit
s
batuques wirl above th e sw
eating tone s s
and th e tears of river s
All feel
uneasiness
s
at the whi te eed in me
breeding a rash inflamed with malediction .

1 67
 O
M CA MB ! I U E

And one day

will come all the Marias of s
the di tant nations
pe i tent
n noor

weeping
or loving to the rhythm of a ong s
s
To ay to my bone s
forgive u s , brother .

Dim ensions

In the cabin
the god of the machine
in cap and overall s
s s
holds in hi hand the ecret Of th e pi stons .

In the carriage
the first -class god
s
e laborates hi s scheme in regul at e d air .

And on the branch-line

feet flat against the steel of th e coaches
bursting hi lung s s
th e god o f the trolley .

1 68
 O
M CA M B ! I U E

in its intense inhuman scent ;

w
and the rap of tenderness spread by th e sun
v
o er the light mat o f petals
s
ha waited since summer for my sister s child ’

to rest himself upon it .

In vain, in vain,
a chirico sings and sings perched amo ng the garden reed s ,

for the little boy of my missing sister,

the victim of the fo rest s vaporou dawns
’
s .

Ah , I kn ow, I know : at the last there was a glitter

of farewell in thos e gentle eyes
s
,

and her voice cam e lik e a murmur hoar e,

tragic and despai ri ng .

0 Africa , my motherland, answer me

What was done t o my forest sister,
s
that she come n o more to t he city with her eternal little
one s
(one on her back, one in her womb) ,
w ith her eternal charcoal -vendor s cry ? ’

0 Africa, my motherland,
w
you at least ill not forsake my heroic sister,
s v
he shall li e in the proud memo rial of your arms !

1 70
Vale nt e Malangatana

To the Anxious Mother

Into your arms I came
when you bore me very anxiou s
s
,

you, who were o alarmed

at that monstrous moment
fearing that Go d might take me .

Everyone watched in silence

s
to ee if the birt h was going ell w
everyone washed their hand s
w
to be able to receive the one ho came from Heaven
w
and all the omen were till and afraid s .

Bu t when I emerged
from th e place where you sheltered me o long s
at once I drew my fir t breath s
at once you cried out with joy
th e firs t kiss was my grandmother
’
s
s
.

And he took me at once to the plac e

where they kept me, hidden away
v s
e eryone wa forbidden to enter my room
“

because everyone smelt bad

and I all fresh, fresh
breathed gently, wrapped in my napkin s
w
.

Bu t grandmother wh o seemed like a mad oman,

,

always looking and looking again

because the flies came at me
q s
and the mos uitoe harried me
Go d wh o also watched over me
w as my Old granny s friend ’
.

171
 O
M CA MB ! I U E

In the coo l waters Of the ri er v

we shall have fish that are huge
v
which shall gi e the sign of
f
the end o the wo rld perhaps
because they will make an end of woman
woman who adorns the elds fi
woman who is the fruit o f man .

Th e flying fish makes an end searching of

because woman is the gold Of man

w hen she sings she e er seem
’
v s
like the fado -singer s well-tun ed gui tar
when she dies, I shall cut Off
v
her hair to deli er me from sin .

’
Woman s hair shall be the blank et
over my coffin when another Artist
v
call s me t o Hea en to paint me
w ’
s s
oman brea ts sh alr b e my pillo w
w ’
oman s eye shall open up for me the way to heaven
w ’
s v
oman belly shall gi e birth to me up there
’
and woman s glance shall watch me
s
a I go up to Hea en v .

1 72
Sou rce s of t he Poems

A IG -IM O U K H U E D E : poem rom MS f

I LL I f
.

A W O O N O R -W A M S : all po ems rom Okyeame I

L f
,

B O A MB A : all poems ro m E sa nz o
RW f
.

B E : bo th p o ems rom O kyea me 1

LR f
,

C A K : all p oems rom M S S

f
.

C R A V E IR IN H A : both poems rom Andr ade s anthology

’

f
.

D E S O U S A : poem rom Andrade s anthology

’

I P f
.

D O (B IR A Go) : all po ems rom Leurres e t lueurs

I P ID f
.

D O (D AV ) : all p o ems rom Coups de pilon

f
.

E C H E R U O : po em rom M S
f
.

F O N S E C A : po em ro m Andrade s anthology
’

f
.

J A C IN T o : p oem rom Andrade s anthology

’

f
.

K AR IU K I: po em rom M S
Y f O
.

K O ME : po em rom B la ck rpheus
f
.

K U N E N E : all po ems ro m MS S
f
.

M AL AN GATAN A : both poems rom MSS

II f
.

M B T : po em rom MS
f
.

M O D IS AN E : po em rom MS
f
.

N E To : poem rom Andrade s antholo gy ’

O R
.

K A A : The S nowfl akes S a il Gently Down Adhiambo

f
, ,

Mystic D rum and O ne Nig ht a t Victoria B ea ch rom M SS

,

We re I to Choose Pia no a nd D rums and Spirit of the Wind

f O
, ,

rom B lack rpheus

f
.

O K IGB O : all po ems ro m M SS

R f
.

P E TE S : all p o ems ro m M SS
f
.

R AB EA R IV E L O : all p oems rom Senghor s antholo gy

’

f
.

R A N A IV O : bo th po ems rom Senghor s anthology

’

f
.

R U B A D IR I : p o em rom M S
f
.

S A N T O : poem rom Andrade s anthology ’

R
.

S E N GH O : In Memoriam Nig ht of S ine Luxembourg I 9 3 9

, , ,

Tot em, P a ris in the S now, B lues, The D ea d, P ray er to Masks ,

1 75
S OURC E S O F TH E P O E MS

Visit, and f
A ll Day Long rom Chants d ombres an d Hosties ’

noires ; In wha t Temp estuous N ig ht and Ne w York rom f

Ethiopiques ; You Held the B la ck F a ce, I will P ronounce your
Name, and B e not A maz ed rom Chants pour Na ét t f ’

YI f O f
.

S O N KA : S eason rom B la ck rpheus ; all other poems rom

MS S
I f
.

U TAM ’
S : all poems rom Feu de B rousse .

Th e f llowing key w rks

o o are re erredf to a o b ve and in the
f ll wing N tes
o o o :

Senghor s anthology : N ouvelle Antholog ie de la poesie neg re et

’ ’

malg ache, edited by L I S Senghor with an intro du ction

J v
.
,

L O rphee noir by e an-Paul S artre (Paris Presses Uni ersi

’ ’

tait es de France,
Andrade s Ca derno : Ca derno da poesia neg ra de exp ressao partu
’ ‘

g uesa edited by Mario de Andrade (Lisbon ,

Andr ade s anthology : Antolog ia da poesia neg ra de expressdo

’

portug uesa edited by Mario de Andrade and preceded by

Cultura neg ro-africa na e a ssimila cdo (Paris, swald, O
O
B lack rpheus o urna l o f A riJcan an d A r o - f
Am erican Litera f
ture published twice or thrice yearly since 1 95 7 rom the
, , f
Ministry of Education Ibadan Nigeria
v f
, , .

P resence Africaine : Cultural R e iew O the Negro World pu b

'

lishe d regularly since 1 947 of re cent years b i-monthly and

,

in both French and English editions by Présence Africaine, ,

Paris .

1 76
Note s on the Autho s r

A IG -IM O U K H U E D E , F RA
b 1 935 at Edunabon near I e NK : . f
in the Yoruba coun try o f W estern Nigeria thou gh his home

v fif
,

is in Benin Pro ince Attended at least teen primary s chools,

v
.

th en Igbobi College an d Uni ersity College Ibadan where , ,

he contributed p oetry t o J P Clark s The Horn R ecently . .

’
.

worked for a national daily in L ago s an d is now back in

f
Ibadan as an In ormation f cer Has written a number of Ofi
fi
.

plays for bro adcasting The rst O f the yo u ng N igerian p o ets

v
.

t o attemp t writing in pidgin English T wo of his p o ems ha e

O
.

appeared in B la ck rpheus

I LL I R
.

A W O O N O R -W A M S G E O GE : b 1 93 5 at Wheta near
f
, .
,

Keta in the Togo Region o f Ghana,o f a S ierra L e onian ather

and a T o g o lese m o ther Educated at Achimota an d the
v
.

Uni ersity Of Ghana where he no w works in the Instit ute of

f v
,

A ri can Stu dies specializing in ernacular po etry Edits the

v
, .

Ghanaian literary re iew Okyeame in whi ch s ome o f his

v
,

poems ha e app eared

L I R f
.

B O A M B A A N T O N E -R O G E : born in the o rmer Belgian

,

Congo H as pu blished numero u s articles and p o ems in the

v
.

re iew La Voix du Cong olais of whi ch he was Editor Influ , .

e n ce d by C es aire Has pu blished E sa nz o p o ems (Pr ésence

f
.
,

A ri caine
RW W I
,

B E K E S : b 1 92 8 at Cape Coast in Ghana Gradu ated

v fi
, . .

at the Uni ersity o f Ghana Pu blished p o etry in the rst

v
.

number of the Ghanaian literary re iew O ky ea me Now

Ofi
.

working at the Foreign f ce at Accra

LR J PP R j
.

C A K O H N P E E : b 1 935 in the I aw country of the

v
, .

Niger D elta Nigeria Edu cated at Go ernment College,

v
, .

W arri and the Uni ersity College Ibadan While at Ib adan

f fl
, , .

o u nded an in u enti al p o etry magaz ine The H orn Since 1 9 60

j
, .

has wo rked as a o u rnali st in Ibadan and Lago s and is now at

I79
 O
N TE S O N TH E A U OR TH S

Princeto n on a fell wship He h

se eral po ems in
o as p u blished v
O d his first pl y S
.

B la ck rpheus an a ong of a Goa t was pro du ced

f
, ,

at Ibadan and Enu gu in 1 96 2 A ree spirit and an abundant .

talent Has published S ong of a Goa t play (Ibadan Mbari

.
, , ,

1 9 6 2 ) an d P oems (Mbari

J c q
,

C R AV E IR IN H A O S E: b 1 9 22 at Louren o Mar u es where he

j v v
, .
,

works as a o urnalist His poems ha e appeared in ariou s .

perio dicals and in Andrade s anthology ’

I c q fi
.

D E S O U S A N O E M A : b 1 92 7 at Louren o Mar u es The rst

f v
, . .

A ri can woman t o achie e a genuine repu tation as a mo dern

poet she has pu blished poetry in a number Of Bra zili an
c q j
, ,

Angolan and Mo ambi u e ou rnals an d in Andrade s

’
,

Ca derno and anthology

I P
.

D O B IR A G o : b 1 906 at D akar Senegal S tu died at Lycée

q fi v
, .
, .

Faidherbe in St Lou is and later u ali ed as a eterinary

surgeon Has spent mu ch Of hi s li e in Upper Volta as a f
v v fi
.

go ernment eterinary Of cer His ou tpu t is small b u t care

f q v
.
,

ully and ex uisitely co mpo sed Had se eral poems in .

Sengho r s anthology Has published Leurres e t lue urs po ems

’
.
,

(Présence Africaine Les Contes d Ama dou K oumba

’
,

ris N v e a ux Contes d Am
’
( P a Fas q u e lle L e s ou adou

f
, ,

K oumba(Prese nce A ricaine

ID f
,

D IO P D A V : b 1 9 2 7 at Bo rdeau x o f a Senegalese ather an d

.

a C amerO o nia n m o ther K illed in an air -crash Off D akar in

f
.

1 9 60 Throu ghout his sho rt li e D iop was in poor health and

f v f q f
.

was O ten in ho spital Mo ed re u ently rom hi s childhood .

onwards between France and West Africa Was a regu lar

v
.
.

contribu tor t o P resence Africaine and had se eral early poems

’ ‘

in Senghor s anthology Has published Coups de pilon poems

’
.
,

(Présence Africaine
I L v
,

E C H E R U O , M C H A E : b 1 9 37 in O we rri Pro ince in the Ibo

“ ‘

country of Eastern Nigeria Edu cated at Stell a Maris College,

v
.

Po rt Harcour t and Uni ersity College Ibadan where he

v
, , ,

read English NOW lecturing in English at the Uni ersity of

f
.

N igeria N sukka b ut is at present at Cornell on a ellowship

J
, , .

He produced P Clark s S ong of a Goa t at Enu gu in 1 962 ’

I LD
. . .

F O N S E C A , A GU N A O : b 1 922 in the Cape Verde Islands

v
. .

Has worked on numerous literary re iews inclu ding S ea ra ,

N ova A tlantico and Nundo Litera rio an d has contributed t o

, ,

Andrade s anthology Has published Linha do horiz onte

’
. ,

1 80
 O
N TE S O N TH E A U ORTH S

M O D IS AN E B LOK
J h nnesb rg where he W E: b 1 9 2 3 at o a u

fled
, .
, as

ed ted W rked f s me ye rs
u ca D m m g ine b
o or o a on ru a az ut

fr m S th Afri w lives
.

o f w ye rs
ou d d w rks in
ca a e a ag o an no an o

L ondon writer act o r and broadcaster Has published

as a , , .

short stories and articles in many perio dicals and is now

working o n three bo oks : a co llection of S ou th A rican stories f ,

ano ther o f his o wn st o ries and an au tobiography He played , .

a leading role in the London pro du ct ion o f Genet s The

’

B la cks

I
.

N E To , A G O S T N H O : b 1 922 e Bengo in Angola

. at Icola .

Studied medicine in Lisbon an d returned t o practise in

Angola Ass ociated with the mo ement led by Vir iato da v

v
.

Cruz fo r the redis co ery Of Angola s indigenou s cu lture

‘ ’ ’
.

In 1 96 0 Neto was elected President of the An golan Liberation

v
Mo ement MPLA In 1 960 he was arrested and taken t o
.

Portugal for impris onment Bu t in 1 9 62 it was announced

f
.

that he had escaped rom Portu gal with the aid of the demo
v
cratic resistance mo ement Has published po etry in Po rtu
v
.

gu e se and Angolan re iews an d in Andrade s Ca derno and

’

antho logy

O R RI L j
.

KA A G A B E : b 1 92 1 in the I aw country o f the Niger

v
, .

D elt a Nigeria Edu cated at Go ernment College Umu ahi a,

, .
,

he then becam e a book—binder At that time he began t o write

f f
.

plays and eatu res for bro adcasting He is now In ormation

O v
.

fficer With the East ern Regional Go ernment at Enugu

v v O
.

Se eral Of hi s p o ems ha e appeared in B la ck rpheus starting

fi j v
,

with the rst number in 1 95 7 He has u st comp let e d a no el /

f f
. .

A sel sufficie nt deeply read and thou ght ul poet

—
,

RI P R Oj O
.
,

O K IG B O C H , S T O H E : b 1 932 at oto near nitsha in the .

Ib o country o f Eastern N igeria Th e imagery Of his p o etry is

f v
.

o ten r o O t e d in the gro es shrines an d s acre d streams of his

v
, ,

birt hp lace Edu cated at Go ernment Co llege Umu ahi a and

v
. , ,

Uni ersity Co llege Ibadan where he read Classics From

v
.
, ,

1 9 5 6 t o 1 9 5 8 he wa s Pri ate Se cretary t o the F ederal Minister

f f
O Research an d In ormation then tau ght fo r t wo years at
f j
,

Fiditi near Ibadan be ore o ining the Library staff at the

v
Uni ersity O f Nigeria He is now West A rican representat i e f v
v v
.

o f the C ambridge Uni ersity Pre ss A o raciou s reader who se

fl
. ,

p assion for classical po etry seems to be re ecte d in his own

fasti di o us cra ts manship f
He h as published Hea vensg ate . ,

1 82
 N O TE S O N TH E A U ORTH S

poems (Ibadan Mbari , ,

Limits and O the r P oems (Mbari,

P E TE R S, b 1 9 32 at Bathurst Edu cated at Bathu rst

L E N R IE : . .
,

Freetown and Trinity C olleg e Cambridge where he to ok a

f
, , ,

medical degree in 1 9 5 9 Now stu dying su rgery at Gu ild ord . .

He is an amateu r singer and broadcaster and has completed a

v
no el which is now under consideration
J J P v
.

R AB EA R IV E L O E AN - O S E H : b 1 90 1 at Ant an anari o

f f
,
.
,

Madagas car o f a noble b ut poo r amily Le t s chool at

,
.

thirteen and began writing po etry at an ear ly age His early

v f
.

work is imitati e fo r he had t o teach himsel a mastery of

f f v
,

French literary o rm be o re he co ul d de elop hi s own ardent

f
style He ounded a literary re iew and led the way in th e
. v
creation o f a n ew Madagas can literatu re written in French .

Passionate and restl ess in temperament he married youn g

f f
,

an d dri ted rom o ne job t o ano ther He be came a dru g

f
.

addi ct an d killed hi msel in 1 9 37 in a moo d of desp air brou ght

on partly by the persistent re u s al o f the lo cal O f cials t o let f fi

v
him isit France the ambiti on o f his li e Se eral o f hi s
, f . v
p oems appeared in Senghor s antholo gy Has p ublished La ’
.

Coupe de cen res d Sylv es Volumes

Vientes de la Ma ria na (Rio de J an e iro ) P resque -song es
v
,

(Tananari e , presented by Robert Bou dry, c hez Henri

Vidalie ,
b 1 9 1 4 in the Imerina country near
R AN A IV O , F L A V IE N :
v f v v
.

An tananari o his ather being Go erno r of Ari onimamo

, .

He did not go t o s chool until he was eight and learnt mu sic

f
long be o re he learnt the alphabet Since early childhoo d he .

has spent mu ch time wandering thro ugh the countryside

fl
‘

around the capital an d hi s p o eti c style is mu ch in u enced by

v f
,

ernacul ar song and ballad o rms especially that called ,

hain-teny Hence his crisp u se of language more au thentic

‘ ’

v
.
,

ally Madagas can than Rab éariv elo s Se eral Of his p oems ’
.

appeared in Senghor s antholo gy H as pu blished L o mbre e t

’ ’

f O
.

le v ent (Pre ace by Mo nno ni and Illu strations by Andri

v
.

amamp ianina T ananari e 1 947) and Mes cha nsons dé toujours

, ,

(Paris
D
,

R U B A D IR I D A V I : b 1 930 in Nyas aland Edu cated at

, . .

Makerere College in Uganda and at King s College Cam ’

W
,

bridge here he to ok the English Tripos D uring the

, .

1 83
 O
N TE S O N TH E A U ORTH S

Nyas aland crisis in 1 9 5 9 he was arrested but went t o Cam

f
bridge a ter his release rom detention An acti e broadca ster f . v
while in England, he has recently returned t o Nyasaland t o
teach
LD O PIRI
.

S A N TO , A ES TO : b 1 9 2 6 in S 5 0 To me where he
Do
v v
.
,

works as a teacher Has pu blished p o etry in se era l re iews

.

Tomé and Po rtugal and in Andrade s Ca de rno and

’
of 8 50

S E N GH O R , L EO P O L D S ED AR
b 1 906 at oal an Old Po rtu : . J ,

gu e se coastal settlement in Senegal He is of the Serere tribe . .

His father was a groundnut merchant and a Catholic in a land

predominantly Mo slem Senghor passed brilli antly rom the . f
local ly cée a nd at the ag e of twenty-two went on t o the Lycée
Louis le Grand in Paris L ater he completed his ag rég a tion at
fi f
.

the Sorbonne the rst West A rican t o do so In Paris he met

f
, .

C es aire D amas and other black po ets and intellectuals rom

, ,

the Caribbean area Pro minent as an intellect ual and political

v
.

leader of West Africa fo r many years he has been at ariou s ,

times a teacher at the Ecole Nationale de la France d Out r e ’

me r a member of the C ouncil of Europe a D epu ty for

, ,

Senegal in the French National Assembly, and a minister in

v
the French Go ernment In 1 960 installed as rst President fi
f
.

of the Independent Republic o Senegal Senghor is the

f v f
.

principle A ri can ad o cate of Négritude and the only A rican

po et who has yet produ ced a su bstantial bo dy of work His
f fi
.

style emerged fully o rmed in his rst book which contains ,

some of hi s best poems These display alr eady his charact er .

istic music and imagery an imagery of the night and the

v
,

moon of tenderness and protecti e presences Has published

, .

Chants d ombres poems (Paris Editions du Seuil

’
, , ,

Hosties noires po ems (Editions fl u Seuil 1 94 8 : reissu ed with

, ,

Cha nts d ambre Cha nts pour Naétt poems (Paris

’ ’

, , ,

Seghers Ethiopiques poems ( Seuil

, Nocturnes , , ,

po ems (Seuil
'

La ng ag e e t poesie nég ro-africaine( pub

,

lishe d in P oesie e t la ng ag e Maison du Po éte Brussels

’

, , ,

L Apport de la poésie neg re (in Témoig nages sur la poésie du

‘

demi siécle Mais on du Po ete Brussels E sthetique

'
—

O
, , ,

neg ro-africaine (Diog ene ct ober

'

YI L
,

S O N KA , WO E : b 1 93 5 at Abeokuta in the Yoruba coun try

v
.

o f Western Nigeria Educated in Ibadan at Go ernment .

1 84
In dex ir s t Line s
of F
 I ND E!

Grey, to the low g ra ss cropping

he ca me to de liv er the secre t o f the sun

I a m sta nding a bov e y ou a nd tide

I done t ry go chur ch, I done g o for cour t

I dre am in the intima te mi-dark ness of

se
f
a n a te rnoon

I ha ve my g ri g ri e

I hear ma ny v oices
I lov e topass my fing ers
I mus t hide him in my innermost v eins

I sha ll sleep in white

!
ca lico

I think it ra ins
I was p lay ing
I will pronounce y our name Na et t, I will declaim you,
Na ét t !
‘

Iba dan, r unning splash o f rust

If we tell, g ently , g ent y l
In one o f the thre e pots
In the ca bin

In the cool x
wa ters f the riv er
o

In the twirling mounta ins overhung with mist

In va in y our ba ng les cast

In y our presence I rediscov ered my name

Into y our ar ms I came

It is S unday

Left hand is God s hand’

Listen co mrades of the s t rugg ling ce

nt uries

Lord, y ou visited P aris on the day o f your birth

Masks ! Oh Masks !
My brother you flash your tee th in response to ev ery
hypocrisy
My mother
I D
N E!

Neg ress my warm rumour of Africa

N ew York ! A t firs t I was confused by y our beauty

O belov ed fa rewell .

O af the y oung ma n who liv es down there

O n tha t big es ta te ther e is no r a in

O v er the mmer hills

vast su

Rus t is rip eness, rus t

S he whose ey es are prisms of sleep

S o would I to the hills ag a in

S uddenly becoming ta lka tive

Tell me , before the ferry ma n s re turn

’

Tha t multitude of moulded ha nds

The black g lassma k er
The fire the river tha t s to say
’

The hide of the bla ck cow is s tre tched

The hills hunch their backs
The moon has ascended between us
The my stic drum bea t in my inside
The past
The pr esent reig ned sup reme
The p rice seemed reasona ble, loca tion
The snowfl a k es sa il g ently
The spring has swep t the ice from a ll my froz en rivers
The s torks are coming now
The S un hung by a threa d
‘

The wea k sca tte red rays of y ellow sun

The wind comes rushing from the sea
They a re ly ing out the re beside the cap tured roa ds
This morning a t the Luxembourg , this a ut umn a t the
Lux embourg
Those s tick -inse ct fig ures ! they rock the da nce
Thundering drums a nd ca nnons 1 05

1 91
 I ND E!

Tra veller, you must set out

We have come home

We have come to your shrine to worship
Wha t dark tempestuous nig ht has been hiding your
fa ce ?
Wha t i nvisible ra t
Wha t time of nig ht it is
When Adam brok e the stone
When a t break of day a t a riverside
When I still can remember
Who has stra ng led the tired voi ce
Woman rest on my brow your ba lsam hands
, , your
hands g entler than fur

You held the black fa ce of the warrior between your

hands
You leav e your faint depressions
You who move like a ba ttered old dre am
Your hand is heavy, Night, upon my brow
Your infancy now a wall of memory