Des Espoirs d’un Cynique – Review on Mellow views

Posted on November 21, 2016 by Mutsinzi for Mellowviews

Eric Mutsinzi’s passion and writing skill is not only rare to find these hills but I don’t know any other 19 year-old young with such abilities. When I invited him at the live stream launch of my last single of the year, I did not expect this. I can only be grateful and hope his quill grows wings. You rock, mazina 😉

We listen intently, as Eric’s recorded voice asks an important philosophical question in the form of a seemingly bleak stream of verses about human nature.”

“The last verse is powerfully politically charged. It mocks the inhumane or perhaps very human hypocrisy of nations that have a history of suffering and yet have become the reason some parts of the world are currently in peril. It is a reminder of our forgetfulness. A reminder of the oblivion to past suffering, birthed by prosperity and satisfaction.” ~ Eric Mutsinzi

Read More…

Lyrics – English Translation

Title : Hopes(lessness) of a cynic
Artist : 1key
Single
2016

Verse 1:
My year of birth is the moment of truth
My pen morphs into a lighter, my ink into fuel
My words dance in flames but catch no fire
I speak loud what you wish you could shout
You who retweets me when I share rubbish on my timeline
You understand that every time I rhyme, I free my mind
From this collective fear that has become a lifestyle
I’m cleaning out my closet at a high speed
As if I had a date with my skeleton before I turn 46
Premonition of my funeral or simply paranoia?
The gift and the curse of the artist is his third eye
I sink into cynicism while my poetry shines

Hook:
Give me a pen and a page, a mic and a stage
So I can share all this rage
Just give me four minutes and a small crowd
So I can tell you all about
“Des espoirs d’un cynique”
Hope(lessness) of a cynic

Verse 2:
Apparently I’m looking for the sympathy of Whites
“Eric, pity doesn’t sell” a friend said online
When I blew the whistle about the hypocrisy
Of my brothers who think that changing a country’s narrative is a literary work
Ask those who live in the shadow of the rich, “Where do the latter shit?”
I mean those who make cheese from cooking stats
If their achievements are so flawless, why do they lie?
Huge gap between Public Relations and relationship with the public
The minister of labor raises her middle finger
To an unemployed youth roaming with job application letters
Flagrant inequality between the people and the land lords
The minority drinks champagne under a bling bling dome
The majority shrinks in silence, hunger is at their door
Nzaramba
I hide behind screens to write these lines
I’m a just coward and I’m so tired
My words and my actions collide

Hook:
Give me a pen and a page, a mic and a stage
So I can share all this rage
Just give me four minutes and a small crowd
So I can tell you all about
“Des espoirs d’un cynique”
Hope(lessness) of a cynic

Verse 3
I am tired of the colonizer’s speech preaching democracy
Ask the natives what they think of Christopher Columbus or his peers’ aristocracy
Ask the Nama and Herero why their genocide isn’t so popular
Or ask the perpetrators
Ask the sons of Gaza what they think of the Star of David?
Ask the daughters of Haiti what they think of the Red Cross’ opportunists
I’m simply tired of our collective hypocrisy
I’ll heal from my cynicism when I find remedies to Africa
Meanwhile I remain a pain in the ass of those suffering from selective amnesia
Coz if I had to talk restitution, Belgium would sink into an infinite deficit
And if I talked about justice, France would be forever guilty
For its involvement in conflicts from the delta to the sources of the Nile
And so would be the United States for crimes against humanity and terrorism worldwide
From east to its west coasts through its cities, my continent is falling apart while
The west and China argue on who takes how much oild and gold
This poem is not an SOS, it’s a bug in this Babylon
I rise from the mass before I get crushed by the weight of life
I raise my voice beyond the hills with my rhymes
But who will… Verse 3
I am tired of the colonizer’s speech preaching democracy
Ask the natives what they think of Christopher Columbus or his peers’ aristocracy
Ask the Nama and Herero why their genocide isn’t so popular
Or ask the perpetrators
Ask the sons of Gaza what they think of the Star of David?
Ask the daughters of Haiti what they think of the Red Cross’ opportunists
I’m simply tired of our collective hypocrisy
I’ll heal from my cynicism when I find remedies to Africa
Meanwhile I remain a pain in the ass of those suffering from selective amnesia
Coz if I had to talk restitution, Belgium would sink into an infinite deficit
And if I talked about justice, France would be forever guilty
For its involvement in conflicts from the delta to the sources of the Nile
And so would be the United States for crimes against humanity and terrorism worldwide
From east to its west coasts through its cities, my continent is falling apart while
The west and China argue on who takes how much oild and gold
This poem is not an SOS, it’s a bug in this Babylon
I rise from the mass before I get crushed by the weight of life
I raise my voice beyond the hills with my rhymes
But who will…

Hook:
Give me a pen and a page, a mic and a stage
So I can share all this rage
Who will give me just four minutes and a small crowd
So I can tell you all about
“Des espoirs d’un cynique”
Hope(lessness) of a cynic

#1key

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