Poem in Jamaican Creole

The Song of the Yaad Man

Jus a while ago mi neva know Jamaica,
but now unu know sey a desso mi wan fi de ya
mi look pon di gullyside an di garrison,
mi reason wit di country man an di kingstonian
mi no blind to di sufferation
across the nation,
no job no deh, politician say wha dem say,
some fraid fi lef dem yaad, some say time get to hard
but
fi mi people dem, we live like one
Inna one likle district in St. Ann,
500 a
FI MI…
bredas and sistas, mada and fadas.

Dem show mi how fi dig hole fi mi yam,
So likle more wi can nyaam.
Broaden mi ches wit dasheen,
“Yu Juk one two mango from di tree?”
Mi raasklaat…How yu mean?!
mi naa to tell no lie, mi buk up inna di bad mind dem,
but wi no wan none a dem, wit fi dem gun, knife and ‘lass
some jankro dem no born, dem hatch

but who mek fi dem ya time inna Jamaica?
Gunmen? Bruce? JPS? Mi raaaa…..
Sum people dem love fi point finga and blame,
But wi mus look inside a each one a wi,
Raise up Jamaica and take way di shame,

Mi dun know but mi learn some ting
And mi no response fi dem people deh,
A fi mi life mi can lead, make dem stay
Empower di yute dem, gi education to who lack,
One love, live good, rispek

Mi kom from foreign but mi is a yaad man now, mi no business if yu no overstand,
Jus don’t bother tell me:
“Jamaica? That is NOT!”
me no business ka,
rock stone a riva bottom dun know how sun hot