Close Reading: A Far Cry From Africa — Derek Walcott
<p>A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt<br />
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,<br />
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.<br />
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.<br />
Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:<br />
“Waste no compassion on these separate dead!”<br />
Statistics justify and scholars seize<br />
The salients of colonial policy.<br />
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?<br />
To savages, expendable as Jews?<br />
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break<br />
In a white dust of ibises whose cries<br />
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn<br />
>From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.</p>
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