Cast your bearing south of Africa's map
Do not mask the hole been gash'd at the south;
A great man sprunt forth unto his last lap,
Cry O' Africa! Wail with your brown mouth;
Take: My farewell to the man of the south.
In bondage he was, twenty-seven years
In liberty he died, our hearts shed tears;
The twenty first century hath claim'd him,
He lives no more again, death has gone grim;
Wail: The dying of the man of the south.
Gaze unto Mandiba, let your eyes weep,
My southerners: I won't leave you forlorn;
I bear your empty hearts so deep and steep,
Ninety-five years ago freedom was born
Freedom: Created by the man of the south.
Now that you're gone, teach the heavens wisdom,
Immortality you live through freedom;
Immortality is yours, please do choose
We'll speak of you, whenever chains are loose.
Immortality: The man of the south.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem