Prayer to the Masks by Leopold Senghor from Richard Niemi Liberty , IN

PRAYER TO THE MASKS


Masks! Oh Masks!
Black mask, red mask, you black and white masks,
Rectangular masks through whom the spirit breathes,
I greet you in silence!
And not you the last, lion-headed Ancestor
You guard this place, that is forbidden to all laughter of woman, to any mortal smile.
You purify the air of eternity, here where I breathe the air of my fathers.
Masks of maskless faces, free from dimples and wrinkles.
You have composed this image, this face of mine that bends
over the altar of white paper.
In the name of your image, listen to me!
Behold, Africa of the empires is dying – it is the agony of a pitiable princess,
Just like Europe to whom she is connected through the navel.
Fix your immutable eyes upon your children who have been called
And who sacrifice their lives like the poor man his last garment.
May we answer Present at the rebirth of the world
As the leaven which is necessary to the white flour.
For who else would teach rhythm to the dead world of machines and cannons?
Who would raise the cry of joy to awaken the dead and the orphans in a new dawn?
Speak, who could restore the memory of life to men without hope?
They call us the men of cotton, of coffee, of oil.
They call us the men of death.
But we are the men of dance whose feet regain vigor in striking the hard earth.



-- Leopold Sedar Senghor