منشور للصحافيين والإعلاميين والمترجمين

Quote: I am not a cowardly quitter who can be weighed down with heavy fetters I will never give up struggle so long as droves of sweated blue-collar workers keep plodding their weary way homewards at dusk Swarming into the streets with their eyes downcast and exhausted Whispering to one another while being herded along by the oppressor’s whips How dare you! a monstrous voice booms out like a dreadful fate I will never give up struggle so long as prisons keep gaping open the mouth wide in the midst of ominous darkness Muttering: "we are the toiling masses" So long as a caravan is wailing in the labyrinths of time with no one to give directions, wandering blindly, facing an uncertain fate So long as millions of barefoot scruffy and hungry street people are left to scavenge for living, While those who live at ease have the giggles, shriek with laughter Party all night long in clubs, abandoning themselves to the pleasures of sensual life Dancing wildly to boisterous jazz Their tables are red with wine and roses Unleashing their limitless burning desires Will they ever hear the thunderclap؟ the ear-splitting clamour of millions of starving people؟ Verily not, for they are past feeling as if they were made of stone! But one day we will indubitably return to the lush green village, to the rose-adorned cottage We will tread on the skulls of our masters with our he.ads held up high Women in the vicinity will ululate joyfully Children will romp about playfully Palm, willow and acacia trees will be in full bloom Wheat spikes will shine in the farms and at homes We will never give up struggle, for one day Africa will be ours again and the early morning songs will be heard once more