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  • They wanted her piecemealed, papier-mâchéd,

  • practically broken, limp-like and loveless,

  • a litany of exaggeration.

  • They wanted her low.

  • And high.

  • Flat and wide.

  • Filled with all of their empty.

  • They wanted her to be more like them.

  • Not knowing her conception was immaculate.

  • That she was birthed in sandalwood-scented river water,

  • sweet sapphire honey-touched tongue,

  • she was too much of a mouthful for the greedy.

  • Just a small amount of her was more than they could stand.

  • Oh, they wanted her bland.

  • And barren.

  • Unspirited, un-African, uncultured,

  • under siege in the streets.

  • They wanted her face down, ass up, hands cuffed and ankles strapped.

  • They wanted her knowing she could never want them back.

  • Oh, they wanted her holy,

  • baptized in her divine,

  • they wanted her secrets,

  • pearls to swine.

  • They wanted to unravel the mystery of her design.

  • Fascinated by glory, hypnotized by her kind.

  • Oh, they wanted her complete.

  • They wanted her whole,

  • though they came fractioned, half-hearted, half-soul,

  • with no regards and no knowledge as to who she really was.

  • Oh, but if they knew.

  • If they knew her,

  • praise songs would rain from the clouds of their eyes,

  • clearing the vision, bathing the heart.

  • They would bow every time they saw her.

  • Be their best selves when she was around.

  • If they knew her,

  • knew she was the glue to their revolution,

  • the life flow of blood through their veins.

  • If they knew her,

  • she would know,

  • she would feel

  • that her body is more than battlefield.

  • More than bone break and bleeding bigotry.

  • More than bridge over your troubled conscience.

  • More than used up, walked on, driven through, shot up.

  • More than your "Selma, Lord, Selma" Edmund Pettus.

  • More than your killer Katrina Danziger.

  • More than your bust them out of Baltimore "Highway to Nowhere."

  • If they knew her,

  • she would know.

  • (Singing)

  • Wild women,

  • wild women, they walk with buffalo.

  • Have lightning on their tongues,

  • fly whisks as weapons.

  • Wild women, they walk with machetes.

  • With wisdom, with grace, with ease.

  • Wild women have hurricanes in their bellies,

  • releasing a flood of a lesson.

  • Oh, wild women, they fly free.

  • Just watch their ways, how they rip and shred.

  • Oh, who can understand her,

  • this winding Niger river of a woman

  • one who is unafraid to tear away

  • only to roam and then become the wind.

  • She who speaks in gusts and cyclones

  • blasting us back to high ground, high consciousness,

  • she turns and so does the world.

  • Feel her spinning,

  • spanning several lifetimes.

  • Hear her speaking, sparking alarm.

  • See her dancing, summoning the dead,

  • resurrecting new life.

  • Heaven hears her knocking on the door,

  • safely transporting the ones who call for her assistance.

  • Wild women, they open portals to new worlds,

  • new speech, new dreams.

  • Oh, dearly beloveds,

  • so dearly departed from the ways of the guardian,

  • beware.

  • For wild women are not to be tamed.

  • Only admired.

  • Just let her in and witness her set your days ablaze.

  • (Cheers) (Applause)

  • Thank you.

  • (Applause)

They wanted her piecemealed, papier-mâchéd,

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TED】スニ・パターソン。"Wild Women"(『ワイルド・ウーマン』|サニー・パターソン (【TED】Sunni Patterson: "Wild Women" ("Wild Women" | Sunni Patterson))

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    林宜悉 に公開 2021 年 01 月 14 日
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