A hundred years in a slave shoes

And, just after, a hundred more years…

Searching crumbs under the tables,

Before the Whites walk on them…

Sleep on piles of wooden planks …

Singing only on Sunday…

You see the black woman

In the role of the maid,

With, very close,

Quite twisted, her old man…

After that you should not wonder :

 

It is them who made,

Them who made

Son House and Charlie Patton,

Howlin’ Wolf and Blind Lemon.

 

Very red, the blood of Africa

On the pretty cotton flower…

The brand new America,

The beautiful democracy ” Welcome! ”

Boats deporting villages,

At the end of the immense journey…

Etched in memory

For light years,

Every ivory tear,

Every iron necklace…

After that you should not wonder :

 

It is Them who made,

They who made

Son House and Charlie Patton,

Howlin’ Wolf and Blind Lemon.

 

 

 

Always please the ghosts merchants;

Her that we buy and him that we give.

Born with the maximum sentence ;

Still alive in what we are;

Forbidden people to the rest of men,

Looking for the blue of the former kingdom…

Them who made, you should not wonder :

Son House and Charlie Patton,

Blind Blake and Willie Dixon

Ma Rainey and Robert Johnson,

Howlin ‘Wolf, Blind Lemon …

Son House and Charlie Patton.