This endless epic poem
It was black as the wind, the heart, smiles, and love
sky, sun, without colour
and as the water, colourless
now I am predator
The highways are necessary for the humanity's good
For here they are greats for the traffic of occupation armies
It is destroyed later so that the enemy cannot use them
And the populations, that more has to support?
I conserve a string of my melodious voice, full of the lost perfume
of my gagged youth
In my tenuous gestures of chained hands
in an infinite mold grain of sand
Some love to feel (?)
That no longer it remains in my heart. Jasmine without odour
He liked a lot of seeing the sun be born
Now I see my beauty in my smile of sadness
at dusk
He always exists one day. My day
As well as they exist years
and silences
That the infinite thick fog of the time vanishes
and remember me
Ah! Dictators and false democratic
he always exists one day!
No longer I walk, I fly in our contentment
in the airplane of the sorcery of the independence
that they invented
Delay ten minutes in the trips
Our businesses are going well in the airplane of the sorcery
He always comes loaded with things that we traded
I want to be honest but I don't get, they don't leave me
To work?! Do they Treat me how slave
They freed me of everything, they forgot about the slavery
And if he gets sick they abandon me until dying
Without medical aid I should die
Sleep them of the hospitals of the concentration camps
they wait for me
They give to the coast as guideless tides
Angola is a concentration camp with inert bodies
Where the decolonises quarter always one more piece
And the economic growth that IMF divulges to my Angola, mine no, of them, that yes!
He is in you sleep them. It is a growth of morbid slaughter
IMF negotiates contracts of cadaverous numbers with to Angola of the FAMILY
With the beauty it expresses that contradicts the intern
It is as the time to pass that remains of the life the project
The movements in the appeared windows, without pretension of originating
The low description than the eyes see but the senses don't capture
To observe without discerning prognostic dictatorship
Bad government
Image: Angola em fotos
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