En.Citatepedia^®.ro

South Africa Is Also My Country

From my birth South Africa is my own country
and my people can flee to an island
but my own culture and language stays holy
although this place is not safe,
I still trust on a much higher hand,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country
even if the struggling government gives me resistance,
do oppress me with unfair laws,
even if nothing can stop the disintegration,
even if I am not safe against the onslaught,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country,
even if some act with effrontery against my people
I come from a noble heritage,
I am proud on my Afrikaner lineage,
even if people and buildings are set alight,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country
with no other place I have such a deep bond
and even if here I will never have any job,
I believe in God and a Christian church,
God himself still keeps my ways intact,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

poem by Gert Strydom
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I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa

I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
the home of the slaves
and the land of no freedom

I'm gonna take the south out of South Africa
where George Wallace stood
on the University steps
and said no blacks
no blacks shall enter here
except over my dead
and crippled body

I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where separate but equal means
that blacks lived in the homelands
and not in their homes

I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where Jim Crow laws
have tried to change their colors
but it's still the same old shackles
call Apartheid

I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where young people are detained
...without trials
...without lawyers
...without rights
but never
... without hope

I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa

poem by Oscar Mireles
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The Pride To Be An African

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in
Existence.

poem by Fasan paul
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African Identity Is Lost

Thank you South Africa Thank you

Today I don’t know why should I cal myself an African

South Africa I am afraid

I don’t know why you have killed people of Zimbabwe

You have exposed this mother land

It is like what Hitler was doing to the Jews

Why, Why, Why? ? ?

Yesterday we were depending on Zimbabwe for liberation struggle.

We had no fighting machines, no residences and no identity

Robert Mugabe Sacrificed all of his power, just because he wanted to see South Africa out of its previous crisis

With the lapse of 15 years?

Why don’t you look at United State of America?

United State has truly become a Model Liberal Country
Its President is a black person

It is a mixture of different people – none of which we have ever had such South African Tragic Killings

Today I am telling te whole world that I am so embarrassed
Ladies and Gentlemen: South Africa is a Xenophobic Country

If you think to pay a visit for study there: please take another option

I had never think that a person can be boiled with fire for no reason but Xenophobia

I wish you a very bad lucky
Perhaps God can give you a Tsunami over your bad reputation
South Africa does not only needs to apologize to Zimbabweans

It needs to apologies to the whole world
It needs to apologies to the whole Africa country
It need to apologies to God himself
It need to apologies to itself for having lost consciousness
I want to warn South Africa with one thing
Fire is not the end of the world
It is not to terminate the Zimbabweans by burning them alive
God has always been there before the fire
I remember when the King ordered fire to kill three men in the bible
God came out to be a shield
Just like he protect people from the lions he can be an answer to what South Africans have done to Zimbabweans
It is like there is absolutely nothing happened to all over the country
Nobody is feeling the sense of pity about these people
They are being treated as the dead dogs
Eve the policies who were there to mediate seem to smile, during event.

The religious groups who are always regarded as holy have not even gathered to express words of regret not only to Zimbabweans but to God himself.

I don’t know which country I can run to
Because I can hear the anger of Gods –talking to me
I wish I can fly away because the pain that South Africa will feel is more that the fire
I am not talking about a joke, I am talking about god
Africa what you have done is to challenge the Lord himself
Since God is able to protect a person that people are playing with
What about those South African who have decided to kill people the image of God himself.

I don’t know: but I think it will be better to be at Zimbabwean Starvation that to be at tragic South Africa
Don’t you remember what happened when people steal the covenant of God at Middle East Countries?
I am yours and you are not mine
No we are not the same
I am not xenophobic
I believe the extended hand is more blessed with receiving hand
I reconcile the process of giving the poor Zimbabwean the food they deserve
No I am an African; It won’t be Africa to me to kill another African
I cannot stop thinking about this
I have several friends and collogues that are coming from Zimbabwe
I am shame of myself
I don’t know what kind of friendship I have with them if my Brothers are killing them
I don’t know whether I will see the in future because of these continuous killings

Thank you South Africa thank you
I did not realize that you have lost the covenant of God
I don’t know whether you are prepared for God’s reaction

poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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The Black Continent

Africa, Africa, Africa!
The Black Continent full of raw materials and talented people;
For the Blackman is capable of managing his own affairs.

Beautiful South Africa,
Beautiful North Africa,
Beautiful East Africa,
Beautiful West Africa,
And beautiful Central Africa! !
This Black Continent is full of natural resources.

Visit Africa to understand our ways,
For we have more to the world!
And like the muse of the animals in the forest,
But The Black Continent means a lot to all of us on this earth:

Africa, Africa, Africa! !

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Cry my beloved SOUTH AFRICA

Cry My Beloved Country
When Tragedy Strikes
When Sorrow Prevails
And NATURE Smite you So Hard
All Bowing Heads

Be yourself to the Rest of us
My beloved Country 'South Africa'

Don't compromise with NAGATIVE thoughts
By allowing anger to rule you
And your Emotions to control you
Stay stable and Positive
Smile when you meet ultimate challenges
To make you STRONG

Don't Rebuke Innocent dust
And Hold your CRASHES on sun
A Joy of mankind is KIND
Be yourself to the rest of us

My beloved country 'South Africa'
I know you will make it

poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
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The German Schwarzwald In The Forests Of Knysna

Africa, I love Africa, my continent, Africa
my beautiful country comprising the beauty
of Provençe in the Cape’s Ceres Valley, the
majestic Swiss Alps in the Drakensberg, the
German Schwarzwald in the forests of Knysna

Africa, I love Africa, I love the Africans,
wearing my blanket like the Matabele, doing
a Zulu dance in moments of glory, dabbling
in Fanagalo as spoken in kampongs, trying to
imitate Khoisan clicks in my songs

Africa, I love Africa, I love the cultural mélange
in South Africa mine, where the Atlantic meets the
Indian Ocean at the southernmost point, where Table
Mountain’s mist lives in my mind in the devil’s contest
to smoke with Van Hunk

Africa, I love Africa, where the Cape of Storms lives
in my heart in the tales of C.J. Langenhoven, written in
Afrikaans, the culture that gave birth to my people and
me, a mixture of French, German, Scottish, Dutch and
Irish forbears…

Africa, I love Africa, in the tale of the Little Hope
with tunic and crown, waiting impatiently at the Cape
of Good Hope for the arrival of southern nomads and
northern sea-farers; tales that inspire my thoughts,
burn in my dreams, filling my mind…

poem by Margaret Alice
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The Edge Has Been Cut (South Africa)

My Belovèd Country!
My Belovèd Love!
My Belovèd Nation!
It is not the best we perceve,
Though with attitude we assume,
Sit down and let me tell you the story of reflection,

we boost about being the best,
fool a massive number of foreign correspondence,
But we disguise reality!
that which we call Africa in the South,

I cannot even differentiate when compared with Zimbabwe,
A huge level unemployment
A fast growing element of poverty,
A lack of proper education as usuall,
And so we shine regardless,
I sit and ask my innocent logical mind,
are the economical figures of South Africa a true reflection of its definition?
if yes!
what is South Africa?
I tell there is more than just a country,
I Could be just a village,

kill me for the dark secret revealed,
a rainbow nation,
that which racism still breath its height,
corrupted and selfish politicians,

if a 9 year old boy still goes to school barefooted,
Is that freedom?
If the schools are built with broke

poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Your name will not carry another meaning for me

Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,
as a place where people serve criminal kings
and even if they throw the South away and it becomes just Africa

with foreigners streaming in, I do not go out to hurt you,
even if we feel that we deserve a better country.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,

as a place where we have to ask God for help
in injustice, revolt and a loss of national dignity
where white people by force loose their own possessions
because I am born to you like my ancestors, my South Africa.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Let South Africa be our country again

Let South Africa be our country again
and South Africans from all over the world
stream back,
to dream here like before,
to hope, to wish
of a place
not bordered of by burglar bars
where people can stay free
before God and man.

Let merit and respect be present
and people receive what they deserve
rather than expecting affirmative-action
and mercy from others
and the whole world
and like in the past
let us successfully do our own thing.

Let opportunities really exist
to be free in work,
living and association,
to study in your own language,
let us pull the teeth of the dogs
that rips others apart to rule,
of might that shatters the weak.

Let the animal inside us die
and we really become people
that does not burn each other,
crush and vituperate
and in groups jeering urge the killing on
and do not rob, but work
for the life that we have got.

Let we break the chains
of people ruling
with profit, might
and work people into the ground
and misuse others to gain prosperity.

I am the white Afrikaner that had to fight in war
and now are unemployed and hungry,
while I have a university degree.

I am the black man that without education
have to dig holes and man garbage trucks
and conclude my life in a shack.

I am the coloured that always stand between all groups
and do not know where I belong
and rather gather in gangs.

I am the South African that life
drives down the whole time
and have to pray all the time,
to know how to carry on.

l’Envoi
Still, I am the one that dream
of a country free from crime,
where everybody have equal opportunity,
where rape, corruption
and lawlessness ends
and where South Africa is our country again.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Don’t Cry For Me Africa

Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
I see pain in your eyes people of Africa
It is hard to describe what you people of Africa are going through
Poverty strikes you all people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will keep you in my prayers people of Africa
Power to the people of Africa
People of Africa lift your spirit higher
Lord is the light and truth people of Africa
The Lord sends you a message from his heart to you people of Africa
He said because I love you
I will answer your prayers
I hear your prayers
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because you have a friend that is the Lord
People of Africa continue doing the Lords work
Make a wish people of Africa
The people of Africa are looking at the Lord face to face
Lord here is no paradise
We dream a little dream said the people of Africa to the Lord
The People of Africa Pray that the Lord will give each other strength every day
Don’t cry for me Africa
Save the people of Africa
Strengthened the people of Africa each day
Because I’ll be there in your dreams people of Africa
The people of Africa tells The Lord how much they love him
Don’t cry for me Africa
Lord comes when you are ready people of Africa
Feelings you have for your Lord People of Africa
And I know you will never let it die
Nothing but flowers the people of Africa will plant in the sea shore for the Lord
Don’t cry for me Africa
The people of Africa needs hope to heal there land
The Lord rose up on you people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
My heart will go on
Once I close this door of the ship I will sail across the Atlantic Sea

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Thank You My Africa

Thank You My Africa
For Giving Birth To Me
For All The Blessings
And For Choosing Me As Your Daughter.

Thank You My Africa
For Selecting Me To Represent
Everything That You Own
And Wherever I Go.

Thank You My Africa
For My Other Sisters And Brothers
For My Other Fathers And Mothers
And The Perfect Weather.

Thank You My Africa
For My Happiness And Dignity
The Love And Careness
For My Roots And Capability.

Thank You My Africa
I Love And Appreciates You
For Being A Good Samaritan To Foreign Countries
Because Of Everything They Go Through.

Thank You My Africa
For Your Capacity
For Your Originality
And Your Diversity.

Thank You My Africa
For Letting Me Overcome Old Pains
To Have Many Opportunities
Privileges, Luck And Alot More Gains.

Thank You My Africa
For The Light That Shines Through
And Even If They Call You Dark Africa
I Declare You As A Bright One Because You Are So True.

Thank You My Africa
For My Beautiful Curved Body
Which Represents All The Roads
The Mountains And Rivers In You.

Thank You My Africa
For I Come From You
And My Appreciation For All That
I Say; I Love You My Africa.

poem by Julius Adolf
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Irene

She seems such a nice lady the beautiful Irene
Her hair as dark as raven's wing her countenance serene
She came out from South Africa with her husband and family
And in Australia for her kids she says more opportunity.

Some of her children miss South Africa still homesick so she say
But Australia they may grow to love at least she hopes one day
She emigrated for their sake she hopes they understand
Still young people have been known to yearn for years for their Homeland.

She talks about South Africa her Homeland far away
But she's not sorry that she left and here she plans to stay
When the Springboks played in the World cup final she watched that on T.V.
And with her family she rejoiced at their great victory.

She has a Grecian background but the moment that she speak
You know she is South African she doesn't sound like a Greek,
She came out to Australia just for her children's sake
And I thought that quite brave of her such a sacrifice to make.

Dark haired Irene from Africa so human and so warm
She's not a proud or showy type she has a quiet charm
And though I only spoke with her for a brief while that memory remain
And what's a loss to South Africa must be Australia's gain

poem by Francis Duggan
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Sinn Fein has productively taken the example of South Africa and, as we develop the peace process, we continue to use examples from South Africa.

quote by Gerry Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now that you want to go away

For generations blood flowed,
and my ancestors fought
for this country to be their own
and it was asked from me
to carry a machinegun.

Still my country was given away
and opportunities with it
and what belongs to me,
robbers claim as their own
without the police trying to stop them.

My friends have left and gone into the world
and are far away from me
that still stays in South Africa
and now you my darling
also want to go away
to another place
that looks much better to you.

Maybe it will be much better
to read the newspaper somewhere else,
to paint brush strokes,
to compose music
and to play the piano and guitar
and to say your thoughts in poems
at another place,
but is it asking too much
that merit prevail for everyone
and to have my country back again?

poem by Gert Strydom
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I love Africa in general South Africa and West Africa, they are both great countries.

quote by Paris Hilton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I helped found Artists for New South Africa, but it used to be called Artists for Free South Africa. Alfre Woodard and a bunch of us started this.

quote by Mary Steenburgen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Africa my Africa

Oh Africa my Africa land of diamonds. Oh africa my Africa land of great kings Shaka, Haile Silasi, mandela to name a few. Oh mother Africa my Africa rich in gold.oh Africa my africa full of beautful women. Yes africa my africa land of real nature.

poem by George mwandu
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An elegy for South Africa

Weep South Africa
as you are no longer my country
and I live here
as if I am
from another planet

as part of a small minority
in a country where dark Africa
declares murderers as heroes
and act like barbarians
and dance and scream.

At a time the orange, white and blue
streamed proud over you
and people at work,
school to parliament
bended their knees to God

who was their supreme leader
right through hordes
at blood river,
the onslaught of the British Empire

and with God on our side
we would quarter
for nobody and nothing.

Our own culture flowered,
children went through schools
right through university
to distinguish themselves
and you could even leave the doors unlocked,
could make a living somewhere,
the police were a servant and a friend
and we under our own rule.

How many times our ancestors
tried to teach other people of God,
distributed medicine and food
and we even faced
the communists and Cubans in Angola,

till on a day a man
for the wide world a hero,
out of our own ranks betrayed his brothers
and he laid the whole country lame
and didn’t sell it out,
but rather gave it away.

Today incompetents are everywhere in control
of state departments
right through into the parliament,
money is squandered,
a whole generation
through their own choosing
did not receive any school education,
whites are affirmed and impoverished by the law
and criminals and foreigners stream in
from all over Africa
to start a new life here.

Today another Afrikaner son is slaughtered
(one of more than three thousand) ,
what happens tomorrow and the next day?

[Reference: Murder on Eugene Terreblance. General condition in the country.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Dust Of Africa

The dust of Africa,
Born into the mist of a dusty atmosphere;
What does the future hold for us?
Oh Africa! Oh Africa! ! Oh Africa! ! !
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
From the desert up there to the south,
The wind blows the natural air to all mankind.
On this earth,
We Africans are mixed with a dusty air!
The dust of Africa,
Have you seen it in Libya, Tunisia, Egypt and Morocco?
The dust of Africa,
What about Algeria, Western Sahara and Mauritania?
The dust of Africa,
Do visit Mali, Niger, Chad, Sudan, Eritrea and Ethiopia;
Also, down south to Namibia!
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
Oh Africa! The dust of Africa! !
To the outstretched sandy dust of the desert,
This could be sold for money.
What about the West Coast of Africa?
From Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea and Sierra Leone;
From Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Ghana and Togo;
From Benin to Nigeria with the same problem of the dust,
The dusty wind changes the colour in our rooms too.
Live in Africa to experience this act,
Shop in Africa to know the facts;
From Cameroon, Central African Republic and Congo Brazzaville;
From The Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya and Uganda;
From Tanzania, Angola, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Mozambique;
From Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, Somalia and South Africa;
Our eyes and our clothes do ell it all in Madagascar also.
What about Cape Verde Island, Comoros Island and Mauritius?
What about Seychelles, Equatorial Guinea, Sao Tome and Principe?
Dusty wind, dusty wind, the dusty wind of Africa!

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Submission (in answer to Don Mattera)

I have seen a white old man and woman
turned onto the street,
living in cardboard boxes
with their small white dog
in the new disastrous improved South Africa,

I have seen white people taking their own lives
when black mine owners robbed them of salaries
and there was no job to get,
no living to be made
and they did this
instead of starting to beg.

I have seen white men and women
with university degrees
leaving the country
in numbers that are more than a million
to find a place to have a life
somewhere else in a foreign country,

I have waited for more than a hour queuing
at a local bank to make a cash deposit,
as a payment to someone
and the way that things are going,
with the black economic empowerment
and people not up to doing a simple job,
soon all of private industry
will be falling apart
as the government departments are doing.

I have noticed friends and family members
who were robbed, hijacked in their vehicles,
raped, tortured and killed
while the South African Police
did their very best to make a arrest
and like in all other things
are not up to it.

I know people who live in despair,
who are totally without hope
while the country’s borders
are flung wide open
to the rest of Africa
to first have a chance at a job
and their degrees and experience
in the face of this means nothing

but not one does bend
under the black heel to submission,
at the mercy of God
their lives go on…

[Reference: “Submission” by Don Mattera.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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