Jamaican Elegy For An Intellectual (Rex. R. Nettleford) Part Iii

He danced on the decks of tossing ships, danced only for dimes He danced to the lash and sound of whips, hip moving like dream And when he reasoned, his words sublime brought heavenly climes Dance from plantation to Greathouse, dancing in gully and stream And if we dance again today, he choreographs nuance and fiber Still; this talented son, this bright native of the Martha Brae River. He is the twin soul of that Manley, our horizons in the sun And when at Mona, he taught me how to run with my ton. O farewell, brother of my brother, mentor that from your distance shape Me into a patriotic landscape where my children may build, farewell Sweet intellect; and O may they bring our Mframadan like cloth to drape Your rest. All your public life was nobly spent, farewell, Rex, farewell! Your footprints are bright, not castles in sand, from high hills shine The glory of your days. O Griot, go the bidding now of the Divine O Blow the abeng now, beat the kumina drum, O village peel The bells of jubilee again. Aluta Continua, Rex, go take your seal! Mi mumma band her belly and bawl long time, yai water like rain Hot like Clarendon springs, and the world like blue mountain mist So cold, O emptiness, emptiness is such a dread, O such a pain What shall we do with out hollowness now, and how shall we resist Again the shackles of injustice, O that there were Marley To sing this icon into the icon of memory, for all our history Is but words on a page until we can retrieve the past to right Today and make tomorrow bright again. He was that light. Coda O Kilmanjaro weep! O Timbuctu weep! O Meroe and kujo's clan Weep for the death of man, a sterling man, a grandiose design That met its worth in gold in deeds of him. All our life is like sand Worn from the rock of being by tides and seasons, and no sign To tell where wind or water carry us, we are blown away The shadow of the sand is gone, but never cannot decay It is too immaterial, its presence is like his fragrance here Bill still O Niger, and you great Nile, I borrow you for a tear.