Original subtitles

Under the patronage of the ethnographic film committee

of the Museum of Man

The African Cinema Group presents

Africa-on-Seine

Before the sun

and our elders we would shout our independence.

Young, carefree,

ignorant of the world around us.

Knowing nothing but our little corner of Africa.

We didn't know other regions existed,

where other little black, yellow

and white children played

and wrestled in other rivers.

We had our Niger,

our sun, our forest.

They were good times.

The time of the kingdom of children.

Children of the whole planet.

Long ago...

What does time matter!

We had to grow up, Ieave home for Paris

capital of the world, capital of Black Africa.

Here, mists have replaced the sun.

machine noises those of men of nature.

But Paris is the centre of hope,

all hope.

Paris is also the city of promises

made by young men to help their country.

Paris

where are your gold-paved streets from our nursery books?

The streets have become

Boulevard Saint-Germain

Rue de l'Od�on

la Maison Moli�re

Place de la Com�die.

Where l found, one morning,

civilization at the school of outstretched hands.

Among these streets

are Rue de M�dicis

Rue Soufflot

the Latin Quarter home to students

- O, illustrious dead of the Panth�on -

who are found when they can be found,

in stuffy hostels

with no sun

often two to a room.

Paris, days without bread.

Paris, days without hope.

Paris, streets of gold in fairy tales for black children.

Paris, where solitude

mingles with perpetual fraternity.

Paris, incomparable variety.

Paris, burgeoning fraternity.

And may they turn, may they turn

for you, children,

the carousels of hope

of a bright future.

ln going to discover Paris,

going in search of Africa-on-Seine,

we have the hope of finding ourselves,

the hope of meeting up,

the hope of finding civilization.

Salute the genius of men of liberty,

of equality.

Salute the peaceful victories

of peaceful men.

Salute all the monuments of Paris.

Witnesses of glories past and present.

The world, in the Latin Quarter assembles itself

assimilates itself

to try to melt, in the sun of love

the ancient barriers of prejudice and monuments of hate

in order to bring closer, in order to understand

despite the falsifications

that men have wrought

on the history of good peoples.

Calculated solidarity

and a fraternity of principle, without warmth

make way for happiness shared,

make way for earthly foods.

The fruits of the earth for all

the fruits of culture for all.

And it's in this old quarter

of letters and science

that the wind of hope blows,

the wind of happiness and of love.

And evenings,

together at feasts of friendship,

the belly full,

the face radiant

the heart open and the arms outstretched

despite men's machinations.

And, still together,

black friends and yellow friends,

black friends and white friends

in our dances of love

heart to heart

side by side, beyond the darkness,

we are winning the battle of light.

Before God

and before others.