Poetry
Dionisio de Jesus Lopes
Nicolau Lobato, where are you?
Your bloody land till is in search.
Where did the enemies bring you?
Here I am ready to preach…
To preach your greatness in your deeds,
In that the inheritors of the freedom…
The freedom you’d fought in a thorny weeds,
They shall wee your martyrdom!
But, where are you, oh N’ Lobato?
When shall we see your remains?
What now can we do?
I know that you were in pains.
What I can utter now for you,
May Lord in His Kingdom console you.
