Tag: Ecrivain africain

‘A ma Mère / To my Mother’ by Camara Laye

On By Dr. Y.In Great Literature7 Comments
isis-horus1
Isis and Horus, an African mother

I am sure every African child has read either the entire book or excerpts of ‘L’Enfant Noir‘, ‘African Child‘ by the Guinean author Camara Laye . It is a school classic. When we were in school, the teacher will often give us dictations from this book. The book focuses mostly about Camara Laye ‘s childhood and was written in the 1950s at a time when most African writers were talking about independence, negritude, panafricanism, etc. This earned Laye’s some tough remarks from Cameroonian author Mongo Beti and others about his lack of interest in panafricanism and African independences. Today, I present to you this poem, ‘A ma mère / To my mother‘ of Camara Laye to his mother (published in Coup de Pillon), which is in reality an ode to all African women, and all mothers around the globe. Good to note his mentioning of blacksmiths in this poem, especially given that Camara Laye’s family was Malinke and he was born into a caste that traditionally worked as blacksmiths and goldsmiths. The English translation is by Deborah Weagel. Enjoy!

A ma Mère

Femme noire, femme africaine,
Ô toi ma mère, je pense à toi…
Ô Daman, ô ma Mère,
Toi qui me portas sur le dos,
Toi qui m’allaitas, toi qui gouvernas mes premiers pas,
Toi qui la première m’ouvris les yeux aux prodiges de la terre,
Je pense à toi…

Femme des champs, femme des rivières
femme du grand fleuve, ô toi, ma mère je
pense à toi…

Ô toi Daman, Ô ma mère,
Toi qui essuyas mes larmes,
Toi qui me réjouissais le cœur,
Toi qui, patiemment, supportais mes caprices,
Comme j’aimerais encore être près de toi,
Etre enfant près de toi !

Femme simple, femme de la résignation,
Ô toi ma mère, je pense à toi.
Ô Daman, Daman de la grande famille des forgerons,
Ma pensée toujours se tourne vers toi,
La tienne à chaque pas m’accompagne,
Ô Daman, ma mère,
Comme j’aimerais encore être dans ta chaleur,
Etre enfant près de toi…

Femme noire, femme africaine,
Ô toi ma mère,
Merci, merci pour tout ce que tu fis pour moi,
Ton fils si loin, si près de toi.

 To my Mother

Black woman, African woman, O mother, I think of you …
O Dâman, O mother,
who carried me on your back, who nursed me,
who governed by first steps,
who opened my eyes to the beauties of the world, I think of you …

Woman of the fields, woman of the rivers, woman of the great river, O
mother, I think of you …

O Dâman, O mother, who wiped my tears,
who cheered up my heart,
who patiently dealt with my caprices,
how I would love to still be near you.

Simple woman, woman of resignation, O mother, I think of you.
O Dâman, Dâman of the great family of blacksmiths, my thoughts are
always of you, they accompany me with every step,
O Dâman, my mother, how I would love to still feel your warmth,
to be your child that is close to you …
Black woman, African woman, O mother, thank you; thank you for all
that you have done for me, your son, so far away yet so close to you!

 

Chaînes de Bernard Dadié /Chains by Bernard Dadie

On By Dr. Y.In Great Literature3 Comments
Dadie_1
Bernard Dadie (Abidjan.net)

Today, I thought that this poem by Bernard Dadié will be very appropriate. We wear a lot of chains, and the oppressed people of this world may want all the gags removed. Enjoy!

Chaînes

 Quelles sont lourdes, lourdes, les chaînes,

Que le Nègre met au cou du Nègre.

Pour complaire aux maîtres de l’heure.

 

De grâce n’arrêtez pas l’élan d’un peuple !

Brisons les chaînes, les carcans, les barrières, les digues.

 

Pour inonder l’univers en eaux puissantes qui balaient les iniquités.

 

Quelles sont lourdes, lourdes les chaînes

Que le Nègre met aux pieds de Nègre

Pour complaire aux maîtres du jour !

 

Lourdes, les chaînes,

lourdes, lourdes,

les chaînes que je porte aux mains.

 

Que tombent tous les baîllons du monde !!

 

 Chains

 They are so heavy, heavy, the chains,

That the negro puts on the neck of the negro.

To please the masters of the hour.

 

Please do not stop the momentum of a people!

Let us break the chains, the shackles, the barriers, the dams.

 

To flood the universe with powerful waters that will sweep away iniquities.

 

They are so heavy, heavy, the chains

That the negro puts on the feet of the negro

To please the masters of the day!

 

Heavy, the chains,

Heavy, heavy,

The chains that I wear on my hands.

 

May all the gags of this world fall!

 

‘Women of Africa’ by Sekou Touré

On By Dr. Y.In Great Literature, Great PeopleLeave a comment
Sekou Toure
Sekou Toure
African Woman
African Woman

So many of our revolutionary leaders have written books, poems, and essays.  The great Thomas Sankara, our African Che and president of Burkina Faso, wrote about empowering women, people, getting away from debt, and the Burkinabé revolution.  Amilcar Cabral not only wrote poems, but also revolutionary essays.  Agostinho Neto, the first president of Angola, also wrote poetry, just as Senegal’s first president Leopold Sedar Senghor.  So it seems quite natural to find out that Sekou Touré, the grandson of Samori Touré, the only African president to say ‘NO‘ to France and de Gaulle, also wrote poetry.  So here, I leave you with a poem by Sekou Touré, on Women of Africa, and their rightful place in the revolution.

Women of Africa,

Women of the Revolution!

You will rise up to apex

You will journey endlessly

At a walking pace of the social Revolution,

To the rhythm of cultural progress,

In the train of economic boom

To the great and beautiful city

Of the exacting ends

And were in leading

Your brothers, your husbands and

your children…

Women of Africa,

Women of the Revolution!

Equality is not offered,

It must be conquered.

To emancipate the women

Is to rid the society

Of its blemishes, its deformities

The conquest of science,

The mastery of Techniques

Will open to the Women the way

That of intra-social combat

Rendering her “subject and no longer object”.

-Ahmed Sekou Toure

“Femme Noire” de Léopold Sédar Senghor / “Black Woman” by Léopold Sédar Senghor

On By Dr. Y.In Great Art, Great Literature20 Comments
Léopold Sédar Senghor
Léopold Sédar Senghor

I would like to share with you this poem of the late president of Senegal, Léopold Sédar Senghor.  This poem is an ode to the Black woman, but above all, to Senegal his country.  Yes… after reading it several times, one realizes that Senghor was writing an ode to the Black woman, his mother, his sister, his daughter, but above all to Senegal which could be loved just like a woman, and whose “beauty stroke him to the heart like the flash of an eagle”, and whose “Savannah stretch[ed] to clear horizons, savannah shuddering beneath the East Wind’s eager caresses.” This poem was published in ‘Chants d’Ombre’ (1945), English translation by Melvin Dixon (in The Collected Poetry (CARAF books …)).  As you read Senghor’s poem, do you see other meanings? who do you think was the intended audience? Do you feel, like me, that he is praising Senegal, the land of his ancestors? or is he talking about the woman of his dreams? Enjoy!

Femme noire

Femme nue, femme noire
Vétue de ta couleur qui est vie, de ta forme qui est beauté
J’ai grandi à ton ombre; la douceur de tes mains bandait mes yeux
Et voilà qu’au cœur de l’Eté et de Midi,
Je te découvre, Terre promise, du haut d’un haut col calciné
Et ta beauté me foudroie en plein cœur, comme l’éclair d’un aigle

Femme nue, femme obscure
Fruit mûr à la chair ferme, sombres extases du vin noir, bouche qui fais lyrique ma bouche
Savane aux horizons purs, savane qui frémis aux caresses ferventes du Vent d’Est
Tamtam sculpté, tamtam tendu qui gronde sous les doigts du vainqueur
Ta voix grave de contralto est le chant spirituel de l’Aimée

Femme noire, femme obscure
Huile que ne ride nul souffle, huile calme aux flancs de l’athlète, aux   flancs des princes du Mali
Gazelle aux attaches célestes, les perles sont étoiles sur la nuit de ta   peau.

Délices des jeux de l’Esprit, les reflets de l’or ronge ta peau qui se moire

A l’ombre de ta chevelure, s’éclaire mon angoisse aux soleils prochains de   tes yeux.

Femme nue, femme noire
Je chante ta beauté qui passe, forme que je fixe dans l’Eternel
Avant que le destin jaloux ne te réduise en cendres pour nourrir les racines   de la vie.

 Black Woman

Naked woman, black woman                              Clothed with your colour which is life, with your form which is beauty
In your shadow I have grown up; the gentleness of your hands was laid over my eyes.                                                                   And now, high up on the sun-baked pass, at the heart of summer, at the heart of noon,
I come upon you, my Promised Land,
And your beauty strikes me to the heart like the flash of an eagle.

Naked woman, dark woman                        Firm-fleshed ripe fruit, sombre raptures of black wine, mouth making lyrical my mouth
Savannah stretching to clear horizons,
savannah shuddering beneath the East Wind’s eager caresses                                                                 Carved tom-tom, taut tom-tom, muttering
under the Conqueror’s fingers                            Your solemn contralto voice is the
spiritual song of the Beloved.

Naked woman, dark woman                                  Oil that no breath ruffles, calm oil on the
athlete’s flanks, on the flanks of the Princes of Mali
Gazelle limbed in Paradise, pearls are stars on the night of your skin

Delights of the mind, the glinting of red gold against your watered skin

Under the shadow of your hair, my care
is lightened by the neighbouring suns of your eyes.

Naked woman, black woman,
I sing your beauty that passes, the form
that I fix in the Eternal,                                        Before jealous fate turn you to ashes to
feed the roots of life.

“Je vous Remercie Mon Dieu” de Bernard B. Dadie / “I Thank You God” from Bernard Binlin Dadie

On By Dr. Y.In Great Literature12 Comments

Today, We will look at a poem by the most celebrated Ivorian writer Bernard Binlin Dadié.  The poem below is titled “I Thank you God” or “I thank you my God,” and it is an ode to us Africans, raising the self-esteem.  Dadié writes here about his pride of being born Black, around independence, when the colonizer had almost beaten out of us our pride of being Black, our pride of being ‘us’.  Enjoy! a great poem from Bernard B. Dadié.

Je vous remercie mon Dieu,             de m’avoir créé Noir,
d’avoir fait de moi
la somme de toutes les douleurs,
mis sur ma tête,
le Monde.
J’ai la livrée du Centaure
Et je porte le Monde depuis le premier matin.

Le blanc est une couleur de circonstance
Le noir, la couleur de tous les jours
Et je porte le Monde depuis le premier soir.

Je suis content
de la forme de ma tête
faite pour porter le Monde,
Satisfait
de la forme de mon nez
Qui doit humer tout le vent du Monde,
Heureux
de la forme de mes jambes
Prêtes à courir toutes les étapes du Monde.

Je vous remercie mon Dieu, de m’avoir créé Noir,
d’avoir fait de moi,
la somme de toutes les douleurs.
Trente-six épées ont transpercé mon coeur.
Trente-six brasiers ont brûlé mon corps.
Et mon sang sur tous les calvaires a rougi la neige,
Et mon sang à tous les levants a rougi la nature.

Je suis quand même
Content de porter le Monde,
Content de mes bras courts
de mes bras longs
de l’épaisseur de mes lèvres.

Je vous remercie mon Dieu, de m’avoir créé Noir,
Je porte le Monde depuis l’aube des temps
Et mon rire sur le Monde,
dans la nuit
crée le jour.

 I thank you God,                               for making me black,
for making me
the sum of all pains,
putting on my head
the world.
I took the world to the Centaur
And I have carried the world since the first morning.

White is a color of                               circumstance
Black is the color of every day
And I have carried the world since the first evening.

I am happy
with the shape of my head
shaped to carry the world,
Satisfied
with the shape of my nose
which has to smell all the scents of the world,
Happy
with the shape of my legs
ready to run all the steps of the           world.

I thank you God, for having created me black
for having made me
the sum of all pains.
Thirty-six swords have pierced my heart.
Thirty-six brasiers have burned my body.
And my blood for all the suffering reddened the snow,
And my blood made the                      east red.

I am still
Happy to carry the world,
happy with my short arms
                of my long arms
                        of my thick lips.

I thank you God, for having created me black,
I carry the world since the beginning of times
And my laughter on the world,
                 at night
                      created the day.

“Seche Tes Pleurs” de Bernard Binlin Dadié / “Dry your Tears Afrika” by Bernard B. Dadié

On By Dr. Y.In Great Literature, Great People2 Comments
Bernard Dadie (Abidjan.net)
Bernard Dadie (Abidjan.net)

Today, We will look at a poem by the most celebrated Ivorian writer Bernard Binlin Dadié.  The poem below is titled “Dry your Tears Afrika” or “Sèche Tes Pleurs“.  Published in 1967, this poem is basically about Africa and her sons and daughters returning home.  It is about healing the wounds of slavery, colonialism, and neo-colonialism.  This poem was actually translated into Mende, a language spoken by ~ 46% of Sierra Leone. It was also set to music by American composer John Williams for the Steven Spielberg movie, Amistad. Below is the original poem in French, written by Dadié.  The English version can be found below.  Enjoy the text, and the video of the poem sung in Mende with the English translation.

Sèche tes pleurs Afrique!
Tes enfants te reviennent
dans l’orage et la tempête des voyages infructueux.
Sur le ris de l’onde et le babil de la brise,
Sur l’or des levants
Et la pourpre des couchants
des cimes des monts orgueilleux
Et des savanes abreuvées de lumière
Ils te reviennent
dans l’orage et la tempête des voyages infructueux. Sèche tes pleurs, Afrique
Ayant bu
À toutes les fontaines
d’infortune
et de gloire,
Nos sens se sont ouverts
à la splendeur de ta beauté
à la senteur de tes forêts,
à l’enchantement de tes eaux
à la limpidité de ton ciel
à la caresse de ton soleil
Et au charme de ta verdure emperlée de rosée.

Sèche tes pleurs, Afrique!
Tes enfants te reviennent
Les mains pleines de jouets
Et le coeur plein d’amour.
Ils reviennent te vêtir
De leurs rêves et de leurs espoirs.

 Bee ya ma yee ah,
bee len geisia bee gammah.
Bee ya ma yee ah,
bee len geisia tee yamanga.
Baa wo, kah ung biah woie yaa.
Baa wo, kah ung biah woie yah, yah.
Oo be ya ma yee ah,
bee len geisia tee yamanga.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.Bee ya ma yee ah,
bee len geisia tee yamanga.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
bee len geisia bee gammah.
Oo bee ya mah yee ah
Bee len geisia tee yamanga.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.
Mu ya mah mu yah,
Mu ya mah mu yah,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.

Be ya mah yee ah,
bee len geisia tee yamanga.
Be ya mah yee ah,
bee len geisia bee gammah.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh,
Mu ya mah mu yeh, Afrika.