The Grieved Lands by Agostinho Neto

 The Grieved Lands


The grieved lands of Africa

In the tearful woes of ancient and modern slave

In the degrading sweat of impure dance

Of other seas

Grieved


The grieved lands of Africa

In the infamous sensation of the stunning perfume of the

Flower

Crushed in the forest

By the wickedness of iron and fire

The grieved lands


The grieved lands of Africa

In the dream soon undone in jinglings of gaolers’ keys

And in the stifled laughter and victorious voice of laments

And in the unconscious brilliance of hidden sensations

Of the grieved lands of Africa

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