This is my mother, 
She is the woman who bore me, 
I was nurtured in her arms, 
With her might I was protected, 
This is my remnant, 
The brothers of my youth, 
We came forth in single array, 
Nurtured by a woman of pride, 
This is my pride, 
The glory bestowed, 
The riches of my might, 
I owe no one a debt, 
Though I was cast a spell, 
To move in stagnation, 
Though I was blindfolded, 
To dash astray, 
Though I was battered like unto ruin, 
Crush and disintegrated, 
Though I was shipped unto the West, 
There I served to stupor, 
I was cut beyond history, 
And my imagination tampered, 
Even the depth of imagination will fail, 
They can't explain the cruelty, 
But now I am back, 
I stand with pride, 
Now I can talk, 
I can imagine the cruelty, 
This is Africa
The mother of my race, 
The woman who bore us, 
I owe no one a debt to pay.
@Tom                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    