Soldiers in Ethiopia
The Emperor Before the League
The Call to Duty
Epiphany
Out of Akebulan
Who Cares
The Value of Friendship
Mutabaruka

Mussolini
chin in hand.
On the table
Africa
crucified, bloodless
in green, black, white, and blue
geography on a map.

A finger, son of Caesar's
pierces the continent.
The rivers of paper
say nothing,
nor the deserts of paper,
nor the cities of paper
where a finger, son of Caesar's
with a bloody fingernail
claws over an Ethiopia
of paper.

Hell of a fine pirate
this Mussolini
with his face so hard
and his hands so long!

Ethiopia buckles,
arches its back,
cries aloud,
rages,
protests.
Il Duce!
Soldiers.
War.
Ships.

Ah, but his soldiers
stumbling and falling--
his soldiers
who do not make their trips on a map
but instead on the earth of Africa,
under an African sun,
finding no cities of paper--
for their cities are something more
that dots that speak
with the little green voices of topography!
Their cities are
anthills of bullets
and the barking of machine guns
and a cane field of spears.

Thus, the soldiers--
who do not make their trips on a map--
the soldiers 
far away from Mussolini,
alone,
his soldiers,
burning up in the desert,
grow ever smaller and smaller.
His soldiers--
slowly baking in the sun.
His soldiers--
mixed with the excrement
of buzzards--
his soldiers.

Jah and History will remember the day!
The League of Nations to forbear,
Thus spoke the Emperor when he did pray.
And his petition heed and hear.

Ethiopia's cause he did present, 
And asked the nations to repent.
Their knavish tricks he did expose,
And warned them change before he close,

With calm deliberate poise and voice,
He left the nations not a choice.
They stood before the world at large,
Guilty of his ringing charge.

Conscience in them he proved was dead.
Their honor too, from them had fled,
They stood no longer for their right.
So strong was their belief in might.

He argued that Security,
Impossible for them would be,
If they that think they would restore,
When Ethiopia would be no more.

Jah will remember this very day,
And history record what he did say,
The prophet's voice he raised on high,
Proclaiming that their doom is nigh.

"The West will perish!" warned the King,
No sooner said, behold the thing!
We ask what manner of man is he
Who brings things to pass so speedily?

Gird on your armour for the fray;
'Tis not the time for songs and 
dances:
The time is spent--and far away--
When one could trust his fate to
chances.

The call of race must stir your
minds,
And burn your hearts with fire that
rages.
That you and yours of kindred
kinds
May live through the eternal ages.

Quit arguing what ought to be
And drifting aimlessly, depending
On things to right eventually
Without the struggles and
contending.

You owe your youth a brighter
hope
Than hitherto your sires have left
you
That they, unfettered, yet may cope
With problems bearing on their
future.

Then Prejudice shall slink away,
And Scorn shall bow her head
dishonored,
And Right, entrenched, shall win
the day
For those who suffered much,
but conquered.

There's no more love nor sacred
price
Than that one pays to save another;
There is no nobler sacrifice
Than that one makes to save his
brother.

When every way is hedged about
And subtle forces seem prevailing
When all seems dark, with not way
out,
Go forth unfaltering, unfailing.

'Tis but the way each race has trod,
Though Error tried to keep them
under,
Right cannot fail since Jah is Jah,
For who can rend His ways
asunder?

Melchior, Gaspar, Baltasar,
three Wise Men; Baltasar is black. 
Black too is the night and 
the Wise Men go on
with the black one gazing at the sky
of stars, he laughs
and the white moon, mirror,
laughs, and laughs again.

Out of the garden called Akebulan,
came the foundation of Man and Woman
Even though the scriptures said it began 
with Eve and Adam
Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam Man.

We the dammned have trod this 
Earth,
giving great generations, and
giving new birth.
Yet, why did we give so much violence?

We say it began when Cain put Abel's life
to silence.

Now a world packs up a nuclear weapon
Nations really fighting to destroy
other nations.
Them say it's a form of fulfillment
of a Prophecy
The time to look out for the Almighty.
And, still 'nough war and murder
every day.
Look how much innocent life
they taking away . . . 

Oh dem children cry
Where is my father
Mother and children cry
Send us another Moses
Hear dem children cry
Where is my dada
Mother and children cry
Tell us no more lies.

Oh dem children cry
Where is my father
Mother and children cry
Send us another Moses
Hear dem children cry
Where is my dada
Mother and children cry
Tell us no more lies.