In that early dusk of a distracted age,
When God in scorn of his own workmanship
violently shook his head at his primitive efforts,
an impatient wave snatched you away, Africa,
from the bosom of the East,
and kept you breeding in a dense enclosure of niggardly light,
guarded by giant trees.
There you slowly stored
the baffling mysteries of the wilderness
in the dark cellars of your profound privacy,
conned the signals of land and water difficult to read;
and the secret magic of Nature invoked in your mind
magic rites from beyond the boundaries of consciousness.
Excerpt of poem Africa by Rabindranath Tagore, published in English in ‘Poems’, Visva-Bharati, Kolkata, 1946.
Anjalika Sagar points out that Tagore has actually never visited Africa.