Millions of miles across the Negro rivers
to a place where the carrot eye is roasted
with a metal cross on our neck
and a grey bracelet on our feet
The long edged iron
Screwed on our memory
a blessing of missiles
and pots for cooking our brothers
which our hands finds delight at doing
The white eagle is a saint inside our masquerade
My children, but our history is not as sugary
like the fresh morning wine
the toothless lion had smiled severally
falling a prey to ignorance
black for devil white for Christ
Comments
I suppose...
that having a real working knowledge of your language and the way that it is constructed, would give me greater insight into this. I understand that your country is in turmoil and feel that you are trying to portray images that I do not understand. It is, full of metaphor and I am lost. ~ Geezer.
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