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South Africa the rainbow nation
So beautiful it's God's creation
Madiba fought for our freedom
South Africa is our Kingdom
Night frawns on our hope and belongings,
And left us hopeless and stranded.
New dawn renews our hope,
And makes all new and beautiful.
Love oh love,
You are sweeter than honey.
You make things easy without money;
Everything smiles at where there is love
Michael: A Pastoral Poem
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
You will suppose that with an upright path
Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent
My dear daddy,
You gave me intensive care for being weak ,
And made me what I am today,
Believing that I can be by your side,
I remember the story of that great person
who fought for our freedom and was great,
who was against the partition
but not against the Muslim .
My Heart's In The Highlands
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
Calm as no stories heard, Days to count: in white you vowed,
Eight years together for you money mattered,
In House of God you called each other brother and sister,
You blood related, blood related, Technologies never lie
I am an alien
I live in a world where aggression and brutality are the codes
The people of this world find fun in watching people slowly lose their breath
Piol Tiek John
What We Needed.
What does our country need? Not armies standing
With sabres gleaming ready for the fight.
Not increased navies, skillful and commanding,
To bound the waters with an iron might.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Over the west side of the mountain,
that-s lyrebird country.
I could go down there, they say, in the early morning,
and I-d see them, I-d hear them.
The Old Huntsman
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed
A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece.
'Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough
It cost me, what with my daft management,
I fasted for some forty days on bread and buttermilk,
For passing round the bottle with girls in rags or silk,
In country shawl or Paris cloak, had put my wits astray,
And what's the good of women, for all that they can say
William Butler Yeats
And sometimes I am sorry when the grass
Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows
And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass
That I am not the voice of country fellows
WHAT does it all mean anyway,
Noise of cannon and boom of gun,
Deafening, colorful fire display
Starting in with the rising sun?
Edgar Albert Guest
SWEET are the thoughts that savor of content;
The quiet mind is richer than a crown;
Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent;
The poor estate scorns Fortune's angry frown.
Where Is Home?
This was the story we were told over and over
and over until we forgot it was a lie
We’ve learnt the language but we are never those country men!
Here only the family name matters
John Chizoba Vincent
The Old Grey Mare
There's a line of rails on an upland green
With a good take-off and a landing sound,
Six fences grim as were ever seen,
And it's there I would be with fox and hound.
R. C. Lehmann
I welcome you my son on earth
More especially in this continent of Africa
In a village of which her people are only warm to foreigners
Feel free my son, I am here for you
The Soldier's Grave
Breathe not a whisper here;
The place where thou dost stand is hallowed ground;
In silence gather near this upheaved mound -
Around the soldier's bier.
South Of My Days
South of my days' circle, part of my blood's country,
rises that tableland, high delicate outline
of bony slopes wincing under the winter,
low trees, blue-leaved and olive, outcropping granite-
Dim, as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars
To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers,
Is reason to the soul; and as on high,
Those rolling fires discover but the sky
Zomba is a small city in Malawi,
A beautiful district,
A land roofed with mountains and blessed with vegetation,
MALLO lero iss im bo nero!
Go where they're threshing and find me my lover,
Mallo lero iss im bo bairn!
Absalom And Achitophel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin,
Before polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind,
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd:
In A Country
My love and I are inventing a country, which we
can already see taking shape, as if wheels were
passing through yellow mud. But there is a prob-
lem: if we put a river in the country, it will thaw
Calme was the day, and through the trembling ayre
Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre;
The Odyssey: Book 09
And Ulysses answered, “King Alcinous, it is a good thing to hear a
bard with such a divine voice as this man has. There is nothing better
or more delightful than when a whole people make merry together,
with the guests sitting orderly to listen, while the table is loaded
Back out of all this now too much for us,
Back in a time made simple by the loss
Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off
Like graveyard marble sculpture in the weather,
(In Memory of a Commission)
Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!
Letter To Maria Gisborne
The spider spreads her webs, whether she be
In poet's tower, cellar, or barn, or tree;
The silk-worm in the dark green mulberry leaves
His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves;
Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Open Steeplechase
I had ridden over hurdles up the country once or twice,
By the side of Snowy River with a horse they called 'The Ace'.
And we brought him down to Sydney, and our rider, Jimmy Rice,
Got a fall and broke his shoulder, so they nabbed me in a trice,
Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed
Out of the wood and saw the sickle moon
Floating in daylight o'er the pale green sea.