Analysis of The land of the San



I want to go to America
to see my uncle Jim;
Russia might have PERESTROIKA
but I'd rather be with him.

America's not too cold
it is not often armed,
the young men are not old
and are very seldom harmed.

Then again I might be wrong:
there are so many drugs,
cocaine and crack to all belong
with guns that hold dull slugs!

APARTHEID is our thorn here,
but I do feel rather safe;
the very least I have to fear
is murder in the land we gave.

I have no possessions
and Americans are free;
I'll suffer the oppression
for my life means more to me.

And, Uncle Sam, I will stay home.
I was born an African!
Not like the Pope who visits Rome
and claims the Vatican.


Scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF XXXX XGHG IHIH
Poetic Form Quatrain  (83%)
Metre 111110100 111101 1011010 1110111 0100111 111101 011111 0110101 1011111 111101 01011101 111111 0111011 1111101 01011111 11000111 111010 0010011 1100010 1111111 01011111 1111100 11011101 010100
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 646
Words 131
Sentences 8
Stanzas 6
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4
Lines Amount 24
Letters per line (avg) 21
Words per line (avg) 5
Letters per stanza (avg) 84
Words per stanza (avg) 22

About this poem

In the poem, the cost of oppression is weighed against the sense of nativity. God has given the land to the San just as he has given Israel to the Hebrews. To run from your home land is not the solution to escape policies of oppression. The title suggests that our just & faithful God will return the land to its people.

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Written on October 15, 1987

Submitted by Alastaire on August 23, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

40 sec read
7

Alastaire Grant Arendse

I know that my Redeemer lives. When my natural ability to speak in writing came to the fore, I felt joy. To express the depths of the crevice of my heart and the vast desert of my thoughts, was an experience that overflowed. I knew that the ability to put pen to paper was given to me. God had chosen me before creation to carry out good works; I had to admit that it is my heavenly Father who made me a better writer than a speaker. All that I was able to do, was a blessing from him. But in my pride and vanity, I had forgotten that God created all things. I rejected my faithful God who never lies and heaved the glory of the ability of success on myself; I had forsaken him. I had forgotten that it says in God's Word that the Holy Spirit gives us talents or gifts as he apportions. When finding myself in the quagmire of rejection, this prodigal son returned to his Father. I had to admit my deep sorrow and regret to him. He did not turn me away but gave me redemption and put the pen back in my hand. more…

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