Brother of the burning Africa
Children of my soul, they raise their eyes to the celestial ceilings, in the cold early mornings.
Eyes closed to the sky, fly free wings, hyaline butterflies to the wind of my desert. Indomitable winds of my desert and your desert, in this lost time of human slavery. Poetic freedom, open borders to the southern wind.
Keep your eyes closed, cloisters of old monasteries. Old drums of deep Africa sound in my black soul, and in your soul… brother…
Brother of race and blood, brother of fiery Africa.
Brother… in our deep roots, in our subtle bodies, we carry the same sap, blood of suffering pain. Suffering Africa in my black and white soul! Africa remains dormant in my soul and in your soul!
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