Afrika-Dig

(photo by photographer Liesel Kershoff < http://www.lieselkershoff.com/)

this is one of my favourite performance poems that my audience and i have enjoyed since i conceived it in 2009. i have never performed it in English. it is one of those poems that comes to its full right in my mothertongue. Yet for the sake of my English readers, a translation follows.

afrika-dig

ek wil 'n gedig skryf wat soos afrika ruik

wat soos die berge van afrika

onder my voete pols

'n gedig wat soos afrika jou laat voel

dat jy tuis gekom het

'n gedig wat afrika-vas is op my tong

wat gloei soos die afrika-son op my rug

my tong is warm afrika-klip waarop die son vurig neerpyl

en die sonbesies teen die boombas van my keel sing

sing sing sing

die afrika lug en doringbome en krieke

en woestyn-stilte

sing sing sing

afrika uit die woude van my afrika-tong

my gedig wil soos aalwyne die lug steek en

met bloedklanke die ondergaan van my sonswoord

tot stilte en vrede roep

my woorde wil jou roep soos die skaars watergate

in die dorre landskap en die klanke wil dorstig

opgelek word deur die tonge van skugter koedoes

met hierdie gedig wil ek nie sin maak met woord

ek wil my tong soos 'n rotsblok laat tuimel

met die steil kranse af

en met die val wil

ek leer om weer aarde-taal te praat

afrika-aarde taal

africa poem

i want to write a poem that smells like africa

that pulses under my feet

like the mountains of africa

a poem that like africa makes you feel

that you have reached home

a poem that is africa-steady on my tongue

that glows like the africa sun on my back

my tongue is warm africa-stone on which the sun fiery arrows

and the cicadas sing against the bark of my throat

sing sing sing

the africa sky and thorntrees and crickets

and desert-silence

sing sing sing

africa from the forests of my africa tongue

my poem wants to pierce the sky like aloes and

with bloodsounds the setting of my sunword

calls to silence and peace

my words want to call you like the scarce waterholes

in the bare and dry landscape and the sounds want to be

thirstily lapped up by the tongues of shy kudus

with this poem i do not want to make sense with word

i want my tongue to tumble like rock

from the steep kranse

and with the fall

i want to learn again

to speak with the tongue of the earth

africa-earth tongue