There will come a time 
When words lose time 
When crime will not shade blood 
When riots will be silent 
When the colour will not discriminate
When the world will know silence 
In the echoes of storms. 
There will be no rhythms nor blues 
There will be no shadows of cornrows 
There will be no shades of cornfields 
There will be depth of synthetic colour
Unification and unity 
Everyone will be judged by character not skin. 
There will be no movement of blacks but a movement of civilization, therapy and healing.                
 
                    This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    