I have come to discover thee, Julia,
At a time when the air was frigid
And the music in hearts: soft and timid;
A sad beginning and a happy ending in stria.
I have come to discover thy hair
Like an enchanted cohort
On guard along the Congo with robes sewn with the secrets creeping from whispers of the night.
Thy face upon which every tale ensnare.
Thy breast, the mysterious pyramid
Where every Pharaoh yearns to rest enblamed.
Thy navel a circular-moon with its silver looks to glow the night.
Thy waist
Aye, to me the book of wisdom lost to fools;
Thy feet upon thy ankles the batons of kings
In the rising kingdoms in time not aloof.
Aye, I have come to discover thy glowing blackness in Africa rising.
As Written by: Amadu Wurie Jalloh
(SAWN archives)
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