by Mireille Lang
Africa my beloved,
Who will heal your wounds,
If not for the tears of Darfur
Ignored genocide, forgotten genocide
Did your weapons grow silent ?
Darfur, your name like a murmur resounds
Lost in the brouhaha of indifference
The endless dance of debates,
Declamations and questions
Whilst on you, with certitude
Darfur of your lovely name, death only echoes.
About the writer
Myreille Lang was born in Congo -Brazzaville and grew up in France where she graduated university with a degree in translation. She subsequently moved to the United States where she lived for 20 years before to immigrating to Canada in 2013. She now works at YMCA-YWCA of the National Capital Region as an Information and Referral specialist for the Newcomer Information Centre. She enjoys literature, international political and social affairs and likes to dabble in poetry.