There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.
There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.
Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost,
I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you.
Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me
in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms!
There, milk and matter,
strength-giving, nutritious
cornmeal pulp,
you were worked and patted
by the wondrous hands
of dark-skinned women.
You, woman, what were you there, what ray, what vane
of that immense fan?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories