On one beautiful morning on the mountain top in silence blowing and howling
Her serene songs to my ear
My femme – fatale, the wind shall gently sway her, lips and gently kiss my lips...
It is at the moment that I shall whisper a secret to her
It is then when I shall tell her to carry this secret across sandy golden dunes of the Sahara, down the evergreen everaining raining forests at the congo Basin,
I shall whisper to her to tell it to the singing savannah grass to the herds of galloping zebras and girraffes, and bellowing buffaloes, growling lions and laughing hyenas.
I shall ask my sensual sexy sensational seductive mistress the wind to the blow across Africa all the way to the greeness of Indian ocean,blowing eddies of brown cape karoo dust until she reaches the cold shark ridden corrents of the Atlantic,
She shall go all the way to the dirty black townships of Africa a whisper my secret to the old mothers selling chicken trotters wrapped in old newspapers at beerhall gates.And the secret shall be Luceant Lux Vestra Afrika,
Let your Light Shine Afrika.