«Son of Mine
My son, your troubled eyes search mine,
puzzled and hurt by colour line.
Your black skin soft as velvet shine;
What can I tell you, son of mine?
I could tell you of heartbreak, hatred blind,
I could tell of crimes that shame mankind,
Of brutal wrong and deeds malign,
Of rape and murder, son of mine;
But I'll tell instead of brave and fine
When lives of black and white entwine,
and men in brotherhood combine
-This would I tell you, son of mine.»
Oodgeroo, in My People
África, Lívio de Morais
It will soon be too late. (Human Rights Watch)