In these uncertain times, I thought about sharing with you this poem by the Cameroonian author Etienne Noumé, ‘Angoisse quotidienne‘ or ‘Daily Anxiety.’ His poem was published in Anthologie de la poésie camerounaise, edited by Patrice Kayo, Le Flambeau. As you read Noumé’s poem, you will find the daily anxiety of the author mounting, as he wonders where he will flee to as hurricanes come and take away his roof, where he will flee to as the torrents sweep away his fields, when will the happy future come? His questions remain of actuality: the hurricanes coming is like wondering ‘where will you sleep, or live?’; the torrents sweeping his fields is like asking ‘where will your income, your food come from?’ the question about the future is like asking ‘when will the spring come? when will this anxiety go away? when will happiness come?’
The poem ‘Angoisse quotidienne‘ by Etienne Noumé, published in Anthologie de la poésie camerounaise, P. Kayo, Le Flambeau. The translation to English is from Dr. Y. Afrolegends.com. I chose the flower above because of all the uncertainty surrounding it, and also because in the end, the light still shines on that flower!
Enjoy the poem below, and let me know what this poem brings to mind.
| Angoisse quotidienne
Quand viendra la rigueur des saisons orageuses ébranchant les dômes des futaies sauvages,
où fuirais-je la chute meurtrière des poutres sur les crânes Quand, froissant, étirant les cheveux de jungle l’ouragan dans ses bras tordra toute la terre, où dormirai-je, la paille de mon toit volant à tous les vents, où fuirais-je, la fureur des torrents balayant tous mes champs, roulant des allluvions pour fumer le vallon Où germera l’Avenir en heureuses ombelles? |
Daily Anxiety
When will come the rigor of stormy seasons pruning the domes of wild forests,
where would I flee the deadly fall of beams on skulls When, crumpling, stretching the jungle hairs the hurricane in his arms will twist the whole earth, where would I sleep, the straw from my roof flying off in all winds, where would I flee, the fury of torrents sweeping all my fields rolling alluvium to smoke the valley Where will sprout the future in happy umbels? |
African Heritage 
I needed to read this poem. Very apropos with today’s times.
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