Africa

[soonforgotten?]

Edit 3

I let my eyes wander fearlessly astray
from one star to the next in rapid pace,
getting lost and ending up far, far away
on the night sky of a tropic place

And under its moon so round and bold
I see shadows labour though the sun has set.
Still their hands are empty and cold;
their foreheads dusty, bathing in sweat

These assiduous souls who own not a pen
– what do they do if they want to write? –
they, who lie sleepless in a humble den
awake with inspiration and without a light

I inquire the abundance on our hemisphere;
all our papers, pencils, erasers, and books.
Some of them must have been taken from there
carved out of an old Adansonia’s crooks


Original

As my eyes wander dreamingly astray
from one star to the next in rapid pace
Getting lost and ending up far, far away
on the night sky of an unknown place

I see under a moon so round and bold
shadows working though the sun has set
Still their hands are empty and cold;
their foreheads dusty, bathing in sweat

I think about those who don’t own a pen
– what do they do when they want to write?
those who lie sleepless in their humble den
kept awake by thoughts but without a light

And I wonder how they all ended up here;
all the papers, pencils, erasers, and books
Some of them must have come from there
carved out of an old Adansonia's[/i] crooks