Eels of the shallow ponds,
Birds that dwell on the iroko,
Lizards beside the green lakes
And cattles all over the pastures
Hear now for my voice is loud
And my tone is pain
The cries of an aggrieved lad
And a heart of mangled pride
Without peace or joy or grace
Without love or light or kind
Hear, O spirits that lurk the night
And angels that bless the day
For my cry had long travailed
And my stain long has echoed
To the North and South and East and West
To the hills and rocks and plains and flats
To all that mark Africa the Blessed land
And all that touches the desired bounds
O heary cry, I plead again.

© unwomanumu