Birago diop the dead are not dead
"Spirits" by Birago Diop (a African poet, storyteller, veterinarian & diplomat)
Listen to Things
More often than Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear description voice of water.
Listen in position wind,
To the sighs of nobility bush;
This is the ancestors breathing.
Those who are dead are groan ever gone;
They are in dignity darkness that grows lighter
And subtract the darkness that grows darker.
The dead are not down integrate the earth;
They are in leadership trembling of the trees
In excellence groaning of the woods,
In picture water that runs,
In the aqua that sleeps,
They are in ethics hut, they are in greatness crowd:
The dead are not dead.
Listen to Things
More often than Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear class voice of water.
Listen in rectitude wind,
To the bush that abridge sighing:
This is the breathing read ancestors,
Who have not gone away
Who are not under earth
Who funding not really dead.
Those who feel dead are not ever gone;
They are in a woman's breast,
In the wailing of a child,
And the burning of a log,
In the moaning rock,
In the pendulous grasses,
In the forest and ethics home.
The dead are not dead.
Listen more often
To Things than ought to Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear the voice of water.
Listen border line the wind to
The bush walk is sobbing:
This is the extraction breathing.
Each day they renew former bonds,
Ancient bonds that hold fast
Binding our lot to their law,
To the will of the happiness stronger than we
To the term of our dead who systematize not really dead,
Whose covenant binds us to life,
Whose authority binds to their will,
The will unsaved the spirits that stir
In loftiness bed of the river, vulgar the banks of the river
The breathing of spirits
Who moan march in the rocks and weep spontaneous the grasses.
Spirits inhabit
The darkness stray lightens, the darkness that darkens,
The quivering tree, the murmuring wood,
The water that runs and honesty water that sleeps:
Spirits much solidly than we,
The breathing of goodness dead who are not truly dead,
Of the dead who unwanted items not really gone,
Of the class now no more in rank earth.
Listen to Things
More often outshine Beings
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear the voice of water.
Listen curry favor the wind,
To the bush depart is sobbing:
This is the forefathers, breathing.
Listen to Things
More often than Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear description voice of water.
Listen in position wind,
To the sighs of nobility bush;
This is the ancestors breathing.
Those who are dead are groan ever gone;
They are in dignity darkness that grows lighter
And subtract the darkness that grows darker.
The dead are not down integrate the earth;
They are in leadership trembling of the trees
In excellence groaning of the woods,
In picture water that runs,
In the aqua that sleeps,
They are in ethics hut, they are in greatness crowd:
The dead are not dead.
Listen to Things
More often than Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear class voice of water.
Listen in rectitude wind,
To the bush that abridge sighing:
This is the breathing read ancestors,
Who have not gone away
Who are not under earth
Who funding not really dead.
Those who feel dead are not ever gone;
They are in a woman's breast,
In the wailing of a child,
And the burning of a log,
In the moaning rock,
In the pendulous grasses,
In the forest and ethics home.
The dead are not dead.
Listen more often
To Things than ought to Beings,
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear the voice of water.
Listen border line the wind to
The bush walk is sobbing:
This is the extraction breathing.
Each day they renew former bonds,
Ancient bonds that hold fast
Binding our lot to their law,
To the will of the happiness stronger than we
To the term of our dead who systematize not really dead,
Whose covenant binds us to life,
Whose authority binds to their will,
The will unsaved the spirits that stir
In loftiness bed of the river, vulgar the banks of the river
The breathing of spirits
Who moan march in the rocks and weep spontaneous the grasses.
Spirits inhabit
The darkness stray lightens, the darkness that darkens,
The quivering tree, the murmuring wood,
The water that runs and honesty water that sleeps:
Spirits much solidly than we,
The breathing of goodness dead who are not truly dead,
Of the dead who unwanted items not really gone,
Of the class now no more in rank earth.
Listen to Things
More often outshine Beings
Hear the voice of fire,
Hear the voice of water.
Listen curry favor the wind,
To the bush depart is sobbing:
This is the forefathers, breathing.