I liked my playmates, and knew well,   

Whence all their parents came;

From England, Scotland, royal France   

From Germany and oft by chance

The humble Emerald Isle.

But my brown skin and close-curled hair

Was alien, and how it grew, none knew;

Few tried to say, some dropped a wonderful word or stray;

Some laughed and stared.

And then it came: I dreamed.   

I placed together all I knew

All hints and slurs together drew.   

I dreamed.

I made one picture of what nothing seemed   

I shuddered in dumb terror

In silence screamed,

For now it seemed this I had dreamed;

How up from Hell, a land had leaped

A wretched land, all scorched and seamed   

Covered with ashes, chained with pain   

Streaming with blood, in horror lain   

Its very air a shriek of death

And agony of hurt.

Anon I woke, but in one corner of my soul   

I stayed asleep.

Forget I could not,

But never would I remember   

That hell-hoist ghost   

Of slavery and woe.

I lived and grew, I worked and hoped

I planned and wandered, gripped and coped   

With every doubt but one that slept   

Yet clamoured to awaken.

I became old; old, worn and gray;   

Along my hard and weary way

Rolled war and pestilence, war again;   

I looked on Poverty and foul Disease   

I walked with Death and yet I knew

There stirred a doubt: Were all dreams true?   

And what in truth was Africa?

One cloud-swept day a Seer appeared,   

All closed and veiled as me he hailed

And bid me make three journeys to the world   

Seeking all through their lengthened links   

The endless Riddle of the Sphinx.

I went to Moscow; Ignorance grown wise taught me Wisdom;

I went to Peking: Poverty grown rich

Showed me the wealth of Work

I came to Accra.

Here at last, I looked back on my Dream;   

I heard the Voice that loosed

The Long-looked dungeons of my soul

I sensed that Africa had come

Not up from Hell, but from the sum of Heaven’s glory.

I lifted up mine eyes to Ghana

And swept the hills with high Hosanna;

Above the sun my sight took flight   

Till from that pinnacle of light

I saw dropped down this earth of crimson, green and gold

Roaring with color, drums and song.

Happy with dreams and deeds worth more than doing   

Around me velvet faces loomed   

Burnt by the kiss of everlasting suns

Under great stars of midnight glory   

Trees danced, and foliage sang;

The lilies hallelujah rang

Where robed with rule on Golden Stool   

The gold-crowned Priests with duty done   

Pour high libations to the sun

And danced to gods.

Red blood flowed rare ’neath close-clung hair   

While subtle perfume filled the air   

And whirls and whirls of tiny curls   

Crowned heads.

Yet Ghana shows its might and power   

Not in its color nor its flower   

But in its wondrous breadth of soul   

Its Joy of Life

Its selfless role

Of giving.

School and clinic, home and hall   

Road and garden bloom and call   

Socialism blossoms bold

On Communism centuries old.

I lifted my last voice and cried   

I cried to heaven as I died:

O turn me to the Golden Horde   

Summon all western nations   

Toward the Rising Sun.

From reeking West whose day is done,   

Who stink and stagger in their dung   

Toward Africa, China, India’s strand   

Where Kenya and Himalaya stand   

And Nile and Yang-tze roll:

Turn every yearning face of man.

Come with us, dark America:

The scum of Europe battened here   

And drowned a dream

Made fetid swamp a refuge seem:

Enslaved the Black and killed the Red   

And armed the Rich to loot the Dead;   

Worshipped the whores of Hollywood   

Where once the Virgin Mary stood

And lynched the Christ.

Awake, awake, O sleeping world   

Honor the sun;

Worship the stars, those vaster suns   

Who rule the night

Where black is bright

And all unselfish work is right   

And Greed is Sin.

And Africa leads on:   

Pan Africa!