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Who Are My Real Ancestors?

Again and again, all and sundry
Claim they have ancestors
Who're these people most treasured by them?
I sat by the river Mungo meditating on this
Then came to South Africa, I hear
The most venerated statesman saying
"I'm proud to be an African"'
While Shakespeare laments history
As being a tale told by an idiot
African humanity has chosen to be Leibnitzian
Indeed, we're kind and indulgent to humans.

Who're then my real ancestors?
It's not those who've satisfied our needs
For pleasure and enjoyment
Nay those who've surpassed themselves
Indeed there's a hierarchy among them
Some remained very low, close to the animal kingdom
Whereas others reached the heights
Those who reached these are exceptional beings
Who distinguished themselves from others
Look at their meaningful and beautiful lives!

You exceptional ones I salute you
For you helped humanity
In my thoughts I accord you a place of honour
For doing good to humanity; when I study you
I give you a place in history
For your genius, moral stature, force of character
I now therefore admit with absolute certainty
That there exists a better way to live
To think and to develop myself
You're magnificent indeed!
You're benefactors of humanity
With your nobility, integrity and disinterestedness
I now resolve to follow and take you as my models.


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Mr. Charley writes, “This is an answer to postmodernism that is a skeptically inclined form of philosophy which calls into question the certainties of discourses, especially moral discourses. I have in mind Lyotard, Derrida, etc. After all, I do not think a poet is capable of explaining all of his work like any other creative artist. A work of art, said Karl Gustav Jung, is not a personality but not a thing and as such should not be judged by personal criteria. It is something supra personal.”