We gathered at the bantaba our bleeding souls and dry tears our wounded pride and scarred image
And talked about all the things we know the things we know not what to do and we sang all our redemption songs songs we know not how to relive and to dance.
Our voices disjointed and weary drowned in the tumultuous drumbeat of the dancing and masquarading the joyful merriment and praise singing that humored the king in his majestic palace.
We gathered at the bantaba our scribes and scholars our poets and philosophers and we analyzed and we scrutinized and we dissected our anger, our frustration and our emptiness
And we talked about all the things we know the things we know not what to do and we sang all our redemption songs songs we know not how to relive and to dance.
From the thatched huts in the secluded green pastures of Sari Yoro to the swampy rice in the rain-drenched fields of Sapu and Mansakonko
Our voices disjointed and weary drowned in the tumultuous drumbeat of the dancing and masquarading the joyful merriment and praise singing that humored the king in his majestic palace.
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Posted - 22 Apr 2010 : 22:26:33
