The Free Bird
The bird who passes over there
The light bird
Who flaps his wings
And slices through the air over there in the horizon,
Doesn’t own a thing in the world,
But how freedom
Makes him pretty!
And he lives singing
On the branch
This beautiful travelling bird
Who gives rhythm to the seasons
For nothing is worth more than freedom:
It is the most dignified of all fortunes
The freedom which the bird
Who lives on the branch enjoys!
Freedom and its sacred fire
Natural freedom
O sacred freedom
Which should be enjoyed
By any being
In his simple state!
About this poem
This poem, representing Cameroon, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012.
