By Leopold Sedar SenghorI will pronounce your name, Naett, I will declaim you, Naett! Naett, your name is mild like cinnamon, it is the fragrance in which the lemon grove sleepsNaett, your name is the sugared clarity of blooming coffee treesAnd it resembles the savannah, that blossoms forth under the masculine ardour of the midday sun5 Name of dew, fresher than shadows of tamarind,Fresher even than the short dusk, when the heat of the day is silenced,Naett, that is the dry tornado, the hard clap of lightningNaett, coin of gold, shining coal, you my night, my sun!…I am you hero, and now I have become your sorcerer, in order to pronounce your names.
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