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(en) Canada, ucl-saguenay, Collectif Emma Goldman -[Poetry]Patrice Lumumba: Cry, O Black Beloved Brother (fr, it, pt)[machine translation]

Date Thu, 23 Jan 2020 07:41:38 +0200

We share a poem written by Patrice Lumumba, a leading figure in the struggle for independence in the Belgian Congo. He was assassinated on January 17, 1961 by the colonial forces. Down with colonialism and imperialism! Cry, O Black Beloved BrotherO Black, human cattle for millennia Your ashes are scattered to all the winds of the sky And you built formerly the funeral temples Where sleep the executioners of an eternal sleep. Pursued and hunted, driven out of your villages, Defeated in battles where the law of the strongest, In these barbaric centuries of abduction and carnage, meant for you slavery or death, You took refuge in these deep forests.
Where the other dead was watching under his feverish mask
Under the feline's tooth, or in the filthy
And cold embrace of the serpent, crushing you little by little.
And then came the White, more devious, more cunning and raptor
Who traded your gold for junk,
Violent your women, intoxicating your warriors,
Park in his vessels your boys and your girls.
The tom-tom buzzed from village to village
Bearing in the distance mourning, sowing disarray,
Saying the great departure for distant shores
Where cotton is God and the dollar King
Condemned to forced labor, like a beast of burden
From dawn at twilight under a fiery sun
To make you forget that you were a man
You have been taught to sing the praises of God.
And these various hymns, punctuating your ordeal
gave You hope for a better world ...
But in your heart as a human creature, you hardly asked For anything but
your right to life and your share of happiness.
Sitting around the fire, eyes full of dream and anguish
Singing chants that said your cockroach
Sometimes joyful too, when the sap rose
You danced, distraught, in the dampness of the evening.
And that's where springs up, magnificent,
Sensual and virile like a brazen voice
From your pain, your powerful music,
Jazz, today admired in the world
By forcing respect for the white man,
By telling him out loud that from now on,
this country is no longer his as it was in the old days.
You have thus enabled your brethren to
raise their heads and look straight
ahead at the happy future promised by deliverance.
The banks of the great river, full of promise
Are now yours.
This land and all its riches
are now yours.
And up there, the fiery sun in a colorless sky,
Its heat will stifle your pain
Its burning rays will dry forever
The tear that your ancestors shed,
Martyred by their tyrannical masters,
On this ground that you always cherish.
And you will make the Congo a free and happy nation,
In the center of this gigantic Black Africa.

Patrice Lumumba
Listed 20 hours ago by Collectif Emma Goldman

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