Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Jerry Zondo

"WE CANNOT PULL DOWN OUR SHACKS"

’Tis a non-negotiable identity
Imposed, final
An authorial command
Unchallengeable. Landless, futureless, peopleless?
The whiteman said so, willed it so, made it so!
But then the Bedford truck has broken down
The shacks dot the road in unpurified reckless beauty
Cardboards, plastics, old rusted zinc, broken asbestos
They all struggle for prominence as they shelter
the hungry, desperate, anxious folk
God, it is so hot here. No water to drink
None knows where we are going, none knows the new world.
We sit wait, but for how long?
All we know is we won’t pull down the shacks.
We do not know our new home
We cannot rush to it
We ask questions;
Why have we left the good fertile soils?
Why have we left our ancestors behind?
Are we going to better soils, better country?
Are we going to see better grazing grass, fatter cattle?
Are we going to fill our granaries with better harvests?
What is this new country? Are we a favoured lot?
But we cannot pull down our shacks
We will stick by them; they are our only hope,
We know not where we go.

"Asingeke siyidilize imikhukhu yethu"

"Asingeke siyidilize imikhukhu yethu"

Luphawu olungevunyelwane
Lugidlatsheziwe, luphelele
Yisiphoqo sobukhosi.
Alungebangiswe. Asilamhlaba, asilakusasa, asisibantu?
Utshilo umLungu, ufise kanjalo, wenze kanjalo!
Kodwa nanso iroli kabhedifodi isifile,
Imikhukhu igqagqazele umgwaqo kakubana ngobuhle bayo obugcagcazayo.
Amabhokisi, amapulasitiki, amazenge antolo, amabhesita ephukileyo.
Onke aqhudelana ukuklama evikela
Abalambileyo, abacabanga nxanye.
Mvelinqangi iyavutha le ndawo, kawekho awokunatha
Kakwazi bani esiya khona, kawaziwa bani umhlaba omutsha.
Sihlezi silindile, kuze kube nini?
Sazi kahle ukuthi asikubhidliza imikhukhu yethu
Kasiwazi umhlaba omutsha
Singeke siwugijimele
Sibuza imibuzo
Siwutshiyeleni umhlaba wethu ovundileyo?
Sibatshiyeleni emuva okhokho bethu?
Silanda umhlabathi ongcono na?
Sizabona izinkomo ezinonele amanono na?
Sizavitshisisa iziphala zethu na?
Lizwe bani elitsha? Siyahlengwa na?
Kodwa singeke sidilize imikhukhu yethu
Sizaphikelela kuyo, ilithemba lethu, asikwazi la sibheke khona!
Close

"WE CANNOT PULL DOWN OUR SHACKS"

’Tis a non-negotiable identity
Imposed, final
An authorial command
Unchallengeable. Landless, futureless, peopleless?
The whiteman said so, willed it so, made it so!
But then the Bedford truck has broken down
The shacks dot the road in unpurified reckless beauty
Cardboards, plastics, old rusted zinc, broken asbestos
They all struggle for prominence as they shelter
the hungry, desperate, anxious folk
God, it is so hot here. No water to drink
None knows where we are going, none knows the new world.
We sit wait, but for how long?
All we know is we won’t pull down the shacks.
We do not know our new home
We cannot rush to it
We ask questions;
Why have we left the good fertile soils?
Why have we left our ancestors behind?
Are we going to better soils, better country?
Are we going to see better grazing grass, fatter cattle?
Are we going to fill our granaries with better harvests?
What is this new country? Are we a favoured lot?
But we cannot pull down our shacks
We will stick by them; they are our only hope,
We know not where we go.

"WE CANNOT PULL DOWN OUR SHACKS"

’Tis a non-negotiable identity
Imposed, final
An authorial command
Unchallengeable. Landless, futureless, peopleless?
The whiteman said so, willed it so, made it so!
But then the Bedford truck has broken down
The shacks dot the road in unpurified reckless beauty
Cardboards, plastics, old rusted zinc, broken asbestos
They all struggle for prominence as they shelter
the hungry, desperate, anxious folk
God, it is so hot here. No water to drink
None knows where we are going, none knows the new world.
We sit wait, but for how long?
All we know is we won’t pull down the shacks.
We do not know our new home
We cannot rush to it
We ask questions;
Why have we left the good fertile soils?
Why have we left our ancestors behind?
Are we going to better soils, better country?
Are we going to see better grazing grass, fatter cattle?
Are we going to fill our granaries with better harvests?
What is this new country? Are we a favoured lot?
But we cannot pull down our shacks
We will stick by them; they are our only hope,
We know not where we go.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère