I will arise and go now,
Back to the granite that carved me.
Back to the country that starved me.
Content in the love of a woman,
That clasped a stranger to her breast
And gave him all that she possessed.
See! She stands upon the shore,
Headscarf tight around her cheeks,
And though she now no longer speaks,
All is well and content.
In our eyes there is fond admiration,
A bond between step-child and nation.
Ten years in which a team,
Moulded from clay, finely chiselled,
Even as the grey clouds drizzled,
Soon to pass. And then a day,
Bright as any Eden dawning,
Blinded by the wealth of morning.