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WEEPING RED BLOOD

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Do we need ancestral heads to understand

The lyrics in this patriotic song of ours?

“Yɛn ara asaase ni

ɛyɛ abuↄ dendene ma yɛn

Mogya na nananom hwiee gu nya de too hↄ ma yɛn

Aduru me ne wo nso so

Sɛ yɛbɛ yɛ bi atua so

If blood, precious, were poured to attain this for us

And our time is now  to show but no show

And we put on clothes of selfishness

Clothes of “over knowings”

Clothes of corruption,

Then what do we do with the weeping red blood

From the hot old graves?

What do we do with the hovering short lived

Spirits without bodies to live?

Have we lost shame and consciences for guilt?

How many of us do not shout

When kitchen knives help us

See three drops of our blood?

II

“⊃man bɛyɛ yie a

Na efiri me ne wo

⊃man bɛyɛ yie a

Na efiri yɛn ara”

I, like a patriotic nightingale, sing

But the moral in the song whips me mercilessly

How can I help?

How can you help?

How can we help?

Since a carpenter cannot build words

And a driver cannot drive nations

I guess we need us and us in what we do

And we need capitalized discipline to drive our cause

As servants serve selflessly,

Let the bosses boss wisely

To help the lyrics in this song close their mouths

Gulp some cool water and rest in satisfaction

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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