mardi 26 avril 2011

'Tribute to the White Bulls' by Trendance

Relieved of a promised despair,
Clinging to a pending future,
Half blind, nearly dried out but still alive,
Propelled in the exodus across the sandy ocean,
We stubbornly shuffle North,
Towards the oasis of fantasy and delusion,
Wrapped up in the bittersweet presence of our once French elders,
These holders of the now deprived sacred fire.
Ah, Fathers… Won’t you tell me again the story of your glorious time?
Won’t you narrate anew THE history of your long-faded pride…
Balthasar, Sundiata, Mansa Musa and the lost French empire?
But now rejoice, Brothers of Progress
For beyond these dunes and rivers,
Those streams and deserts
Far away from the fateful misery and tyranny of our villages
Lies in the offing Europe’s coveted fortress
And its lush Elysian fields.  

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