Tears for Our Bicolor Flag
Tears for Our Bicolor Flag by Hébert Logerie Tears are streaming down deep inside me For our bicolor flag That our brothers are dragging in the mud. In the name of God, have pity and respect for our ancestors, Who are annoyed and frustrated where they are interred. Oh! My Lord, even at their resting place, they are being betrayed. Another eighteenth of May in shackles, Another open season, where the master’s boots Are stumping on our neck. Once again, they are spitting on us snoozing on the ground, Slapping and lynching us repeatedly, Where we are blinded by dusts and lightning flashes. We have nowhere to go, no country. The tractors have dug up our yams and gold. We have nothing; we are treated like vermin, We have been abandoned at the crossroads. Another eighteenth of May where the heartless, And shameless kleptomaniacs tell unbelievable stories, In front of countless poor people battling all sorts of diseases; In lieu of money, our pockets are filled-up with marbles and rocks. When