| Author | Message | ||
     Yesayah Newbie Poster Username: Yesayah Post Number: 9 Registered: 03-2006 Rating: N/A |
Acknowledgments: Bois-Caiman-1791 ______________________________________________ To the highest mysticism To one Cup One pig One Circle As we held our brothers’ hands And our sisters’ too And to the Victory The cup is still with us And to one knife, One chief, one Loa... spirit Appeared from Dahomey Over to our mountainous Hispaniola While we stood, taller than thou And, to the cool wind That blew humbly Through all Creoles’ souls in Saint Domingue or Santo Domingo ...yes, that’s Haiti But no one felt it... For all flesh stayed motionless As we multiplied.... It flew into one circle of divinity All heads tied in white. But to one alpha drum, one original blood, one vow, One river, one massacre, one family, one sight One tear, three spirits, two hands, one machete One sugar cane field, full of battered bones But he took just one pig, One sip, one dream, and one dance One wood, one master, one victory One freedom... _Fania Simon 2003 _________________ I'm Addicted to The God in Me. Life is Poetry. Express Yourself -Fania Simon  | ||
| Rondall Moderator Username: Rondall Post Number: 84 Registered: 01-2004 Rating: N/A |
Speaking of a revolution... Bois Caïman!! Dutty Boukman!! Like whoa. Magic. Nice poem. I remember this story all to well. I remember the people that taught it to me. Haiti's history is all of our history. Same blood, same land, same magic. Nice. Talk about a revolution. | ||
| Yesayah Newbie Poster Username: Yesayah Post Number: 10 Registered: 03-2006 Rating: N/A |
Thank You Rondall. I appreciate your comment. |
