In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

terça-feira, 15 de dezembro de 2009

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (83). Because my petroleum and diamonds were, they don't already here remain, they are a lot besides the sea

The upstarts' agitation in the hunt copper-covered without pause
they don't leave that we rest, of turning over the intact
Nor you remain, you break, nor protests
That we are blessed with notable smell in uproar
Give to the new gentlemen, what belongs to them
The submission of the illiterate ones is belongs of the slaves

I dance and I don't find the centre of my Universe
Millenniums are passed in my face
Of twitching, of screeching of teeth
of snarling eternal

I usually have the pretension of saying everything
To the imposed silence of everyday
That they are born and they hide my mask
chosen of my heart without delight
Quickly to see it destroyed
my country, Angola

The highways and the convoys are our distraction. They feed a lot of loads and few discharges. Metal groups that circulate loaded to the sea. Petroleum, copper, zinc, gold, uranium, diamonds… many rare metals. Then they export us, they prepare us. They allow observing us those goods - to photograph them no because the Marxist-Leninist god is always present - that impede our sustenance. He deposed the Marxist-Leninist ones abandon us offer us the abundance of the black hunger. Angola, Ethiopia, Liberia, Sudan, and many more…

The economic displeasure, the corruption, the outrage
I lost the countless times in that I was freed
for soldier-dictators

Where I will go, I don't know, they stole me the
and the orchids of the gardens
Without perfume, with sourness, where I will go
I don't know
Remember me, I walk thereabout to the search
Of some honest ruler. Say that it never again ends
my torment
I scream in the deepest forest virgin
say, seek our ancestral God
If they find him in the sacred circles
when they dare to go to the deep of the sacred forest
Remember me, don't fear, there I will be

They swallow me a ship without slaves
without presents and without eternal presidents

I try to recompose the lost wreckage
of the boats that stagnate in my eyes
Walking, the ocean of my tears
Always in the longest search than I promised
to return and to remind of the twenty of the beach of Jamestown

He begs in the nude street without mirror to aim at me
Tell me struggle again
and to finish off, and to kill
I lost them the will, no longer I love them
I hate them
Because my petroleum and diamonds
they were, they don't already here remain
they are a lot besides the sea


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