After a Fruitless Argument
What we read and what we argue over
And the light in our eyes
Are not inferior to young Russians fifty years ago.
We argue what's to be done -
Yet, even so, not one of us clenches his fist,
Crashes it on the table
And shouts V NAROD.
We know what it is we want:
We know what the people want
And we know what's to be done.
Yes, we know more than young Russians of fifty years ago.
Yet, even so, not one of us clenches his fist,
Crashes it on the table
And shouts V NAROD.
It is the young who are assembled here -
The young, always building something new for the world.
We knew the old would die before long and we should win.
Look at the light in our eyes, at the savagery of our arguments.
Yet, even so, not one of us clenches his fist,
Crashes it on the table
And shouts V NAROD.
Fresh candles three times now:
Dead flies in our empty tea-cups:
The girls' zest unabated: yet
In their eyes the exhaustion at the end of a fruitless argument.
Yet, even so, not one of us clenches his fist,
Crashes it on the table
And shouts V NAROD.
Dibussi Tande (1968- )
We Shall Rise Again!
From the heights of the Menchum falls
And the heart of the Congress hall
Shall come the long awaited call
That will bring down these walls.
From the mysterious Barombi lakes
And the mythical Oku lake
Shall rise liberty's mermaid
Who shall come to our aid.
From the historic park of Ntarikon
The selfless martyrs shall come
To water the struggle
And break down hurdles.
On the road without a ring
The oppressor shall lose his wings
From the depths of little known Meanja
Shall come marching Liberty's soldiers
From the forests of Fontem
The invader's progress shall be stemmed.
From the confiscated white lodge
Tyranny shall be dislodged
From the forgotten Tombel
Shall ring salvation's bells
From the plains of Ndop
And the lush vegetation of Korup
The people's flag shall be hoisted up.
The masses of Victoria
Contaminated by freedom Malaria
The people of Banso
Breaking our chains with liberty's saw
The angry spirits of Nyos
Fervently healing our slavery yaws
The wisemen of Batibo
Religiously anointing our arrows and bows
The valiant children of West Mungo
Telling our oppressors to go,
Shall all build a new nation
And give history its real version.
The mighty Fako mountain
And the crumbling Bismarck fountain
Shall spit out freedom's fiery venom
That will end this shameful serfdom;
Our nation shall be born again
And our freedoms forever regained.
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