Our love is not shaken


And when the wind whips the sky and the sword falls tearing flesh And horror touches the naked face Our love is not shaken This is the land where we were born its sorrow is our grief and todays bitter cloud is a moments pain which the rain must dry.


Marcelino dos Santos, a poet and a leader from Mozambique, wrote this poem many years ago. He did not know that one day his words would be so true.


Last month Marcelino dos Santos walked alongside the coffin of his closest friend and comrade, Samora Machel. His heart was filled with sorrow and he shared his nation’s grief. The summer sky was black and the rain came down to dry the nation’s “bitter cloud” of pain.


President Machel died in an accident of “tearing flesh, when horror touched the naked face”. May he rest in peace, knowing “our love is not shaken”.

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