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 PSPicture by MLMC