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The rooster said to me:
My voice will grow day by day
until your heart trembles
and you no longer keep your head down.
Don’t be afraid if you reach another town,
if the mountain dresses you
and you get tangled up in another language.
Respect the cicada
that they buried in your throat
and the veins in your arm
given to you by the calabash for being playful.
Each morning I crow at the world:
I don’t want any brother walked over.
The stars must hear
how your arms give strength to the land you were given.
Never sell the few flowers
where your parents wept
nor the path of the deer taught to you by Grandmother.
If there is blood,
so will there be bullets to defend what’s ours.
Ni’thíin mbàxtá:
Magajáa ajngó’ mbámba mbi’i
asndo rí màxmá nímìaan
khamí nìmbá mi’tsú maxá trastrákha ìdxàà.
Maxá mìñàa xí imbá xuajén idxà’nú,
xí júbà najne xtíñáa
xí nàngra’an rí narathan i’wá ajngáa.
Athanè gamakuíín chìkíín
tsí gidá’ agàà,
khamí nithú ñawuán’ rí nìxná rà’kha ìdo niratsí gàjmáa.
Mbámbá mì’cha nandxá’wa inuu numbaa,
numuu rí nando’ rí nimbáa ndxájo’ maxá nìñámìna’,
nando’ mandxáwíin à’guàán
rí naraxná tsiakhíí jùbà’ rí niwanúun ñawáan,
khamí nimbá mi’tsú maxá thangújuaa rè’è rí kixnúu
ná nìmbiya’ ànáa
khamí jamboò àña’ rí nisngájmáa xiñàa.
Xí ríga ì’di,
màrigá’ màngaa xdúu àjuan’ rí màñaún ná jùwá ló’.