We, Too

Oh, Congo brother
With your tribal marks,
We, too, emerge
From ageless darks.
We, too, emit
A frightening cry
From body scarred,
Soul that won’t die.
We encarnadine the sky.
We, who have no
Tribal marks to bear,
Bear in our souls
The great welts there
That years have cut
Through skin and lashed
Through bone In silent cry,
In unheard moan—
We, too,
Congo brother,
Rise with you.