
He had that elegant stride, trembling on the road under his coat, some shitting and pissing on the ride then he would put his chin above your cloth. In that eye there was the flat, so mighty, peaceful, never-ending When recalling that overwhelming heat with one ear up and the other pending. To you, some valley’s talk was strain and deaf an ear you had to pretend Not having to reply: Je suis Africain! Cannot finish this way my Pordo Friend You take and go away, is this humane? I am not forgetting you until the end. Translation by PS Picture by MLMC