slavery

 

The slave

No, I won’t cry

No, I won’t look at you

I will continue staring at the horizon.

I’ve been deprived of my freedom, wife and children.

I will not talk to you about my son Wombee whom you made adopted by a White family; I will not mention my wife whom you have shamelessly raped with impunity.

You’ve taken my cattle, you’ve fired my cabin, slaughtered my companions.  You won’t take my dignity.

My chains are your chains,

You draw your own load.

Don’t threaten me, I am not afraid;

You can sell me,

You can hit me

You can whip me,

You can break my bones,

Make me work until I die,

But you cannot make me drop a tear, nor utter a lament,

I will cast the bad eye on you and your kins,

The Spirits will trigger hail storms on your plantations

Someday, your house will be on fire too,

Your children will die of diseases unknown by your doctors,

You will be shaken with shivering,

Your trade will collapse,

Your crops will fade,

But you will be abandoned by your friends.

I am Black

I am the powerful one.

You will lose everything in your life whereas I will keep, the only valuable aspect: my soul.

I will sing with the other slaves

I will tell them my story and they will tell me theirs,

We will always remain together

And we, Blacks, will found a new Nation,

A Nation of Liberty.