And the Angolan earth
shakes
of the million of
miserable
roar
that in her fugitives
stroll
for the forces of the
repression and of the spoliation
repressed
in immense Tchavolas
spoiled and hungry persons
in agony
concentrated
Rioters of the
manifestations
the GPL-Government of the
Blow of Luanda
he exalts you… with
sticks
And the Portuguese come for
Angola
to work
And the Angolan space for
Portugal
to walk
There, there is no work, it
is alone
to dismiss
The more in the time, in the
power
more poverty will have
to happen us
in Rome you are Roman
in Angola you are
corrupt
where the dictatorship is
implanted
the sorcery supplants
her
that our life, that is everything
to get better
clear, the corruption until
it is at the altar
There are men that destroy
homes
but only one man destroys a
nation
Without electric power they
give us the final blow
The increment of the poverty
doesn't scare them
They are already habituated,
programmed
and they have many
Chinese
many foreigners to work
her
and the mwangolés?!
It is for us to dismiss
them
He wants in the deads,
humiliated
arrested and executed
In the fields of the
death
sparkled
And we are not able to nor
we owed
to complain
They are of cocked
weapons
they are to silence us
to kill
In this diabolical one to
can
the hope that remains
us
It is dying
Them more and more rich
in beauty
And us more and more
rotten
of poverty
Only §. They are not allowed
honest in this kingdom.
Our force is in the
corruption.
Image: A file photo
of an Angolan child sells bread on the street in the country's capital Luanda,
April 17, 2005.
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