Weep my soul
By Enoch Ngor
August 9, 2005 —
Weep ye daughter of Kush
Weep ye mother of Kaladosis
For thy son is slain
For thy hope rests on a pool of blood
It made my soul to burn in grief
My mind engulfed in disbelief
How could that be?
For you to leave so soon
The world asked in bewilderment
Is it the son of de Mabior?
The White Calf of Peace
Is it goring?
The same one
Who proclaimed hope for Sudan?
The New Sudan
A New Sudan where all shall live in harmony
United with dignity and free will
But there are some who wish not for this Sudan
Who reject the Sudan of your dreams?
A Sudan so different from what you advocated
Discrepant with what you initiated
A Sudan that will never be appreciated
Have not you said in Kauda
That no medicine is sweet
No balm soothes our tastes
That is why truth is prosecuted
Denied justice
For the truth is holy
Behold, the messenger of peace
Behold, the Vincent of the oppressed
You are not yet done
You abide in the millions who believe in thy vision
Thy vision that resembles the fragrance of the flowers
The breeze of the sea
The whispers of the brooks
They thought by picking a flower
The fragrance would be sent to oblivion
Nay they did not realize that
You are the fragrance of the struggle
You are the substance of the peaks
You are the soul of liberation
You are the symbol of the New Sudan
Your departed soul shall enliven the struggle
The struggle for Justice and equality
The struggle to make humane this land of millions
This land of many gods and people
Thy strong will for a New Sudan shall remain entrenched in history
Thy patience to restore dignity to many shall glitter forever
Thy virtue for the truth and justice shall guide the path of many
Thy sincerity for change shall be the conscience of the people
There is no truth in this land of mortals
The absolute truth abide in the world of tomorrow
Where each truth will freely mingle with others
There we shall discern the mockery and treachery
Of the enemies of truth
The ones who assassinated Luther
The ones who slaughtered Gandhi
The ones who crucified the Nazarene
The ones who poisoned Socrates
The ones who killed the source of our hope
As long as they continue doing these
They cannot bend the spirit of the truth
For the truth is absolutely free and seeks no gratifications
For the truth gratify itself
But Weep not anymore daughter of Nyankiir
Weep not ye granddaughter of Pyre
For thy beloved has not died
Your beloved son is not gone
For tomorrow shall give birth
To another Garang
May your soul rest in peace