Somewhere in Africa

Strong winds swept all to asunder
But the Masai march against it
With spears black with greasy hands
And faces painted like Halloweens ghosts
Pushing the tall shrubs down
Frighting lions off the forest paths
With bare hands they dare the buffaloes
And call to the Boar for duels
What manner of men, strange
The queer hue of pride and courage
Meshed in muscles and will
With strength for running the heights
Each man being a useful tool
Courage for the head to stay on its place
Throwing oneself to Fates’ mercy
The hope of a strong future
To be painted in the glory be told
And the unity of being one strong weapon
Driving against the wind up the hills
With their noses straightened to meet the air
They conquer all, man and beast