Ode to Zumbi - Afro-Brazilian revolt leader
first draft from a piece commissioned of me by composer Milica Paranosic. thought i'd fucks with a ghazal this time... holler!
Ode to Zumbi - Afro-Brazilian revolt leader
(a ghazal)
Zumbi dos Palmares, Zumbi dos Quilombos
born free; a man already on fire
Learned in your mass and tongue;
Whole body preaching a new fire
Zumbi war like hurricane
10,000 men in the bellows of his fire
You cross Zumbi white man, the song
of sugar cane sting your throat with machete fire
If you can’t see the target; shadow
of Africans running in the night, on what will you fire?
Your women shriek at sight of the warrior
his blue-black skin in their thighs’ true fire
Shango gives Zumbi the dance, but the weapon?
Is Ogun hammer who fire
That crackle in the night from Rio
to Port-of-Spain, is the sugar cane’s blue fire
The worst idea you ever had
was to bring these Africans here through fire
The best decision you ever made
was to bring these Africans here through fire
Only a mulatto could betray him; taught well
to disdain his brown hue’s fire
Look what Zumbi got made; the capoeira,
the teeming and hungry favela, the black youths’ new fire
And I servant of Zumbi’s uprising, singer of Zumbi’s songs
the kaiso, the bossa, the pop lock, come to ghost him back to life.
Honor him with with our dance
He here in these lungs. For him I croon fire
Ode to Zumbi - Afro-Brazilian revolt leader
(a ghazal)
Zumbi dos Palmares, Zumbi dos Quilombos
born free; a man already on fire
Learned in your mass and tongue;
Whole body preaching a new fire
Zumbi war like hurricane
10,000 men in the bellows of his fire
You cross Zumbi white man, the song
of sugar cane sting your throat with machete fire
If you can’t see the target; shadow
of Africans running in the night, on what will you fire?
Your women shriek at sight of the warrior
his blue-black skin in their thighs’ true fire
Shango gives Zumbi the dance, but the weapon?
Is Ogun hammer who fire
That crackle in the night from Rio
to Port-of-Spain, is the sugar cane’s blue fire
The worst idea you ever had
was to bring these Africans here through fire
The best decision you ever made
was to bring these Africans here through fire
Only a mulatto could betray him; taught well
to disdain his brown hue’s fire
Look what Zumbi got made; the capoeira,
the teeming and hungry favela, the black youths’ new fire
And I servant of Zumbi’s uprising, singer of Zumbi’s songs
the kaiso, the bossa, the pop lock, come to ghost him back to life.
Honor him with with our dance
He here in these lungs. For him I croon fire