Africa, <br />Of whom Diop sang in praise <br />When in foreign France far away <br />Where are the proud warriors whom he saw <br />When the traitors broke their laws <br />In cruel oppressions of our lands? <br /> <br />Africa, <br />Of whom Diop’s mother sang in praise <br />When the rivers were yet free <br />From the toxics and waste. <br /> <br />Africa oh Africa. <br />Now that we seem to know you <br />From the white man’s false perspective <br />With the white and black blood in our veins, <br />Rejected by the former and confused of the latter <br /> <br />Africa, <br />Of whom Diop sang in praise <br />Before corruption irrigates our leaders <br />In the west, north, east and south <br />Can we now thy name defend <br />As we bare shame in their land <br />In their first while we third? <br /> <br />Africa, <br />Of whom Diop sang in praise <br />Before these children prefers slavery <br />In rejection of our sin <br />And our leaders that are bad <br />The more slavery they impute. <br /> <br />Africa, <br />Of whom Diop sang in praise <br />How long will this back break? <br />Still humiliated in their world <br />As they prefer we be third <br />While our leaders kill and steal <br />And the children groan and die? <br /> <br />Africa oh Africa, <br />Was there ever a true voice <br />Of tree over where springing up anew? <br />With fruits bit by bit <br />Acquiring the bitter taste of liberty <br />While we Africa in their Africa.<br /><br />macaulay akinbami<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-burlesque-to-diop-s-africa/
