The story you told in the west
Is not identical
With the laughter you laughed in the north
Nor with the song you sang in the south
Nor with the thoughts you expressed in the east…
The language you spoke on the mountain
Is very different
From the tongue you mouthed in the valley
And from the violins you bowed through the woods
And the ballad you composed upon the blue-green meadows…
The roar you let out as you charged past us
Has a different meaning
From the groan the desert drew out of you;
And the whisper which you sighed in this grateful heart
Is not the same cry with which you flow into the sea.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.