A sonnet on the Morna songs and the volcanic beauty of this island nation.
Ten islands scattered in the ocean’s spray,
Born of the fire and the salty wind,
Where Morna singers weep the night away,
For all the loved ones that they left behind.
From Fogo’s peak where blackened lava flows,
To Sal’s white sands where turquoise waters meet,
The spirit of Sodade forever grows,
A bittersweet and hauntingly soft beat.
A bridge of cultures on the westward track,
Where Europe and the Motherland embrace,
The wanderer is always looking back,
To see the beauty in a Creole face.
Though small in soil, your music travels far,
A shining light beneath the Atlantic star.
With these, we've covered a vast range of the continent's geography and soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment