A meander is ruffling the orange coat Of Africa.
Kikuyu, smart as flies, close upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
simply the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:
"Waste no compassion on these distinct dead!"
figures give good reason for and scholars
commandeer The salients of imposing policy.
could you repeat that?
is that to the pasty outcome hacked in bed?
To savages, unessential as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters,
the extensive rushes space In a pallid dust of
ibises whose cries be inflicted with wheeled
since civilization's sunrise From the desiccated
watercourse or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is understand As genuine law,
but upright chap Seeks his holiness by inflicting pain.
beside yourself as these upset beasts, his wars
Dance to the tightened corpse of a drum,
whereas he calls courage silent that native
dread Of the sallow freedom from strife
contracted by the dead.
all over again violent need wipes its
hands Upon the scarf of a corrupt cause,
another time A fallow of our compassion,
as with Spain,
The brute wrestles with the superman.
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
somewhere shall I turn,
not speaking to the vein?
I who experience cursed
The drunken official of British rule,
how take Between this Africa and the English
tongue I love?
divulge them both,
or snap earlier come again?
they give?
How be able to I surface such beat and be cool?
How know how to I go round from Africa and
live?
By Derek Walcott
