Translation

The Declaration   (Azimio)

 

The Declaration now: the remains of a meal

on the capitalist's moustache,

the leaking pen

in a student's pocket,

the choking dust

after the herd has passed by.

No-one's been shaved,

no-one's received a new pen,

the road remains unrepaired.

All that is left now

is a grain of millet

thrown into the wilderness

by a sightless sower.

 


Euphrase Kezilahabi 

Tanzanian poet, novelist and scholar, Euphrase Kezilahabi was one of the first African writers to publish a collection of free verse poetry in Swahili, whose work has also had a great impact on the development of the genre of the novel in Swahili.  He is professor of African literature at the University of Botswana. 

More of his poems, translated by Katriina Ranne and Poetry Translation Centre Workshop members, can be see here at the Poetry Translation Centre website.

 
 

 

A Village in Mourning (Kilio Kijijini)

 

 

The sharpening cold, the wind and then the storm.

The sound of grief within the house.

And he, like a gemstone lying asleep

on the scales, waits to be cleansed by the rivers

of tears that flow from their cheeks.

Outside in the fields the maize lies flattened,

the origins of the wind revealed, its path from death.

The trees are still not finished dripping

their raindrops that fall in furrows below,

a lesson for those who with their hoes in their hand

reckon out the years of a lifetime.

In a moment, the droplets are done -

life then appears all too brief.

The soaking dew has tipped the trousers

of the uncle who's come here to mourn.

Who could believe this,

if not for the speed of the rainwater

flowing into the valley, reminding us all

of the path each human life must take.

Such silence! A village of silence.

Silence outside, while inside the house

are the cries of mourning and grief.

Here we are, bowed down like corn

not ready, not ripe yet, afraid of the reaper.

Outside, it is slippery. If you walk here too fast

you will fall. The cow and the goat stand

in silence, watching each passer-by in sadness.

A village of silence. Silence outside, while inside

the house are the cries of the heads of corn

bowing:Our Father at last is brought down -

God is Great! Or so they are told.

 

Euphrase Kezilahabi