Sea and sand

My love

My land

God bless Africa

Sea and Sand

My love

My land

God bless Africa

But more the South of Africa

Where we live

Bless the angry mountains

And the smiling hills

Where the cool water spills

To heal the earth's brow

Bless the children of South Africa

The white children

And the black children

But more the black children

Who lost the sea and sand

That they may not lose love

For white children

Whose fathers raped the land

Sea and sand

My love, my land

God bless Africa

Like a tall oak

I lift my arms to catch the wind

with bruised fingers

and somewhere in the ghetto

a Child is born;

a mother's anxiety and pain

hide in a forest of hope.

Like a straight pine

I point my finger at God

counting a million scars 

on my dreams

and somewhere in the ghetto

a Child is weeping;

a women writers her legacy

on leaves of despair.

Like a weeping willow

I drop my soul

into a pool of fire

somewhere in a dark sanctuary

I hear the sound of a Freedom Song:

The Child has risen

and walks defiantly

towards the lion's lair

undaunted,

unafraid

Born Donato Francesco Mattera in 1935 in Johannesburg's Western Native Township (now Westbury), Don Mattera inherited multiple cultural traditions from his Italian grandfather, Khoisan/Xhosa grandmother and Tswana mother. Mattera was largely raised by his grandparents developing a strong affinity with Italy through his grandfather s reminiscences, Mattera has written of those reflections "I virtually lived in the farm cottage in his native Italy, and walked among the olive trees. Even my blood was shed in the long vendettas. I became one with them who I had never seen or touched or spoken to."