Une Longue and Harduous Day

 

If I knew the beauty of my country when I was yet an adolescent

I might have not negated my fructuous years, lending my abilities elsewhere

Although opportunities abound but I never feel satisfied in the same way

the smiles of the Haitian women beckon my warm embrace.

Whether it is in Gwomon, Didye, Mawotye, the similarities do not cease

When the drum rumble, we tap to the same rhythm

Although we do not know each other's name

We rock as I in frolic, an expectation of freedom, a dose of desire

Wrap our souls and we dance in saccade to the voice of liberte, egalite

Demands and expectations unfulfilled yet awaited.

Mother freedom, why has thou abandoned us

Who have searched and commanded freedom

From the jaws of the most able army

And unscrupulous people who tried to rob our spirit?

We are freedom in spite of the binding contracts

That brought the white trucks and the green jackets

They took for very little our most beautiful images

Clad in beaches, mountain tops and most hidden treasures

We look on as if they are not there; they are damming our souls

Bright eyes starring, little girls bright and right, born free

Arrogant little boys, starring me down without a smile

Clad in their nudity in their purity yet a few years

They will be lost thinking they are not right enough

Not light enough, a peasant instead of a neg la vil

A paysan and not a citizen, void of rights, often forgotten.

 

By: Marie Marthe Saint Cyr

On the way from Jean Rabel