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Re: favourite Jamaican poem
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Gad_Bless_Pickny</div><div class="ubbcode-body"> Yuh sure yu go school a Jamaica?
One of favourite is song of the Banana Man by Evan Jones.
"The Song of the Banana Man" by Evan Jones.
Touris, white man, wipin his face,
Met me in Golden Grove market place.
He looked at m'ol' clothes brown wid stain ,
AN soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
He cas his eye, turn up his nose,
He says, 'You're a beggar man, I suppose?'
He says, 'Boy, get some occupation,
Be of some value to your nation.'
I said, 'By God and dis big right han
You mus recognize a banana man.
'Up in de hills, where de streams are cool,
An mullet an janga swim in de pool,
I have ten acres of mountain side,
An a dainty-foot donkey dat I ride,
Four Gros Michel, an four Lacatan,
Some coconut trees, and some hills of yam,
An I pasture on dat very same lan
Five she-goats an a big black ram,
Dat, by God an dis big right han
Is de property of a banana man.
'I leave m'yard early-mornin time
An set m'foot to de mountain climb,
I ben m'back to de hot-sun toil,
An m'cutlass rings on de stony soil,
Ploughin an weedin, diggin an plantin
Till Massa Sun drop back o John Crow mountain,
Den home again in cool evenin time,
Perhaps whistling dis likkle rhyme,
(Sung)Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'Banana day is my special day,
I cut my stems an I'm on m'way,
Load up de donkey, leave de lan
Head down de hill to banana stan,
When de truck comes roun I take a ride
All de way down to de harbour side-
Dat is de night, when you, touris man,
Would change your place wid a banana man.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'De bay is calm, an de moon is bright
De hills look black for de sky is light,
Down at de dock is an English ship,
Restin after her ocean trip,
While on de pier is a monstrous hustle,
Tallymen, carriers, all in a bustle,
Wid stems on deir heads in a long black snake
Some singin de sons dat banana men make,
Like, (Sung) Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'Den de payment comes, an we have some fun,
Me, Zekiel, Breda and Duppy Son.
Down at de bar near United Wharf
We knock back a white rum, bus a laugh,
Fill de empty bag for further toil
Wid saltfish, breadfruit, coconut oil.
Den head back home to m'yard to sleep,
A proper sleep dat is long an deep.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'So when you see dese ol clothes brown wid stain,
An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
Don't cas your eye nor turn your nose,
Don't judge a man by his patchy clothes,
I'm a strong man, a proud man, an I'm free,
Free as dese mountains, free as dis sea,
I know myself, an I know my ways,
An will sing wid pride to de end o my days
(Sung)Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.'
</div></div>
This is one of my favorite poems... I no longer read the stuff...
This is the only poem that came out of Jamaica that I ever thought reflected the life pride and hard times times of Jamaica's rural life... It is dated some... The farmer takes his product and does a day labour.. The pride that he feels in his own strength, he is aware of the limitations of the system he works in...
I found out later the authour was a Jamaican White.... And he wrote the best poem of the Jamaican mass diaspora movement to London in "The Lament of hte Banana Man"
Ebony...I cant remeber the name of the authour Ried his surname was .....It was in the 1972 Munronian.. I was taught it by Fledg....I cant be sure of the first verse..I beleive I mised out a couple lines... But the seacond part from the word Native is imprinted in my soul.... Tdrove me to Africa...
Both these poems are I think why I get so personally offended when a white yankee tells me how Jamaicans should live.... Those Tourist white men telling us with "our shirts brown with stain" what we need what we think is wrong.. Who gave them that right ???? They are the Romans... The Barbarians at the gate...
Ebony
Ebony of throbbing pulses
Ebony of teeming Congo
Whisper to me
whisper to me
Whisper fiercely
Whisper hoarsely
Of the passions of the jungle
Of the day break of Zambezi
And the sprits of our fathers
Native naked in the sunshine
Clothed in shame by Europe’s ethics
Bastard son of Eden’s outcast
Born in bondage of frustration
Genesis!
of ancient passion
Break the chains of Rome asunder
Beat the drums that speak ebony
Beat the drums that speak of the home land
You are dark
And you are comely….
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Gad_Bless_Pickny</div><div class="ubbcode-body"> Yuh sure yu go school a Jamaica?
One of favourite is song of the Banana Man by Evan Jones.
"The Song of the Banana Man" by Evan Jones.
Touris, white man, wipin his face,
Met me in Golden Grove market place.
He looked at m'ol' clothes brown wid stain ,
AN soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
He cas his eye, turn up his nose,
He says, 'You're a beggar man, I suppose?'
He says, 'Boy, get some occupation,
Be of some value to your nation.'
I said, 'By God and dis big right han
You mus recognize a banana man.
'Up in de hills, where de streams are cool,
An mullet an janga swim in de pool,
I have ten acres of mountain side,
An a dainty-foot donkey dat I ride,
Four Gros Michel, an four Lacatan,
Some coconut trees, and some hills of yam,
An I pasture on dat very same lan
Five she-goats an a big black ram,
Dat, by God an dis big right han
Is de property of a banana man.
'I leave m'yard early-mornin time
An set m'foot to de mountain climb,
I ben m'back to de hot-sun toil,
An m'cutlass rings on de stony soil,
Ploughin an weedin, diggin an plantin
Till Massa Sun drop back o John Crow mountain,
Den home again in cool evenin time,
Perhaps whistling dis likkle rhyme,
(Sung)Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'Banana day is my special day,
I cut my stems an I'm on m'way,
Load up de donkey, leave de lan
Head down de hill to banana stan,
When de truck comes roun I take a ride
All de way down to de harbour side-
Dat is de night, when you, touris man,
Would change your place wid a banana man.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'De bay is calm, an de moon is bright
De hills look black for de sky is light,
Down at de dock is an English ship,
Restin after her ocean trip,
While on de pier is a monstrous hustle,
Tallymen, carriers, all in a bustle,
Wid stems on deir heads in a long black snake
Some singin de sons dat banana men make,
Like, (Sung) Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'Den de payment comes, an we have some fun,
Me, Zekiel, Breda and Duppy Son.
Down at de bar near United Wharf
We knock back a white rum, bus a laugh,
Fill de empty bag for further toil
Wid saltfish, breadfruit, coconut oil.
Den head back home to m'yard to sleep,
A proper sleep dat is long an deep.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.
'So when you see dese ol clothes brown wid stain,
An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
Don't cas your eye nor turn your nose,
Don't judge a man by his patchy clothes,
I'm a strong man, a proud man, an I'm free,
Free as dese mountains, free as dis sea,
I know myself, an I know my ways,
An will sing wid pride to de end o my days
(Sung)Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.'
</div></div>
This is one of my favorite poems... I no longer read the stuff...
This is the only poem that came out of Jamaica that I ever thought reflected the life pride and hard times times of Jamaica's rural life... It is dated some... The farmer takes his product and does a day labour.. The pride that he feels in his own strength, he is aware of the limitations of the system he works in...
I found out later the authour was a Jamaican White.... And he wrote the best poem of the Jamaican mass diaspora movement to London in "The Lament of hte Banana Man"
Ebony...I cant remeber the name of the authour Ried his surname was .....It was in the 1972 Munronian.. I was taught it by Fledg....I cant be sure of the first verse..I beleive I mised out a couple lines... But the seacond part from the word Native is imprinted in my soul.... Tdrove me to Africa...
Both these poems are I think why I get so personally offended when a white yankee tells me how Jamaicans should live.... Those Tourist white men telling us with "our shirts brown with stain" what we need what we think is wrong.. Who gave them that right ???? They are the Romans... The Barbarians at the gate...
Ebony
Ebony of throbbing pulses
Ebony of teeming Congo
Whisper to me
whisper to me
Whisper fiercely
Whisper hoarsely
Of the passions of the jungle
Of the day break of Zambezi
And the sprits of our fathers
Native naked in the sunshine
Clothed in shame by Europe’s ethics
Bastard son of Eden’s outcast
Born in bondage of frustration
Genesis!
of ancient passion
Break the chains of Rome asunder
Beat the drums that speak ebony
Beat the drums that speak of the home land
You are dark
And you are comely….
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