The past is deep.
By the river manafwa we wash and weep;
The men upstream, the animals lower, the women lowest.
We weep for our dear departed,
We weep for the glory we never had,
Or even smelt.
It was but only a dream,
And we prostrated for this dream,
We could even have killed for it,
because we were blind,
we had bulletproof hearts,
And it was the greatest of all times.
Look to the shadows,
The man of perdition comes,
The enemy we have not seen yet,
He comes charging,
Wearing a green balaclava,
Chanting; freedom for all pigs,
And still we wave a white flag,
Fools!
You have eyes but cannot see,
Come down to the river to pray,
Come down to buy some eye salve,
Come down to wash and weep,
To wash and sip.
On the day of our Lords,
The books were opened,
And the judgement begun;
How shall we judge them my Lords?
First the illuminati, the gladiators lower, the women lowest.
Why my Lords, why?
because We now make all things new.
In the year of our Lords,
the river begun to flow upstream,
And the glory of glories shining,
First to the sons of God, the sons of men lower, the women no more lowest.
In that last year of sorrow;
The past no longer deep,
The future here,
The pigs now eternally wailing.
I too walked upon those shores;
I was a man like you,
I was a man like no other,
We had bulletproof hearts,
And those were the greatest times ever,
The greatest times ever.
D e wasake
8 july 2009
P.s "the past is deep"
Adopted from b wordsworth that most eccentric of poets in v. s naipaul's classic "miguel street"
Sent from my BlackBerry® device from Cable & Wireless
Sunday, 19 July 2009
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2 comments:
Bambi Taata Lauren. Ekyana kya Esquire. Is all I am thinking about right now.
You have begun already to be inspired by, Miguel Street, how wonderful. This must certainly be the deepest possible reading though someone I heard recently suggest that translation is the deepest possible reading of an author's work. Your response though is translation also.
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