At Gassama’s final trumpet, at his final trumpet . . . They stood like the crucifixion’s stake, Like the crucifixion’s stake, The Antelopes stood, Cheery visages in glum, Wreathed with wide waters, Of the hearts crackdom accepted. They’ve caressed Leaking from The Eagles In twin-legged sphere leather Combats, they’ve caressed.


Lions will roar me lullabies Dark nights will bring me fireflies Gazelles stride the savannah Monkey hunts for banana Kilimanjaro sits with his head in the clouds Alone, yet simply majestic Deserts, forests, savannah, swamps With mother, each one of them camps The rivers bring an all year spring Flaunting their life engagement ring The… Continue reading IN AFRICA