Poem
Chirikure Chirikure
Whirlwind
I heard the word from Macmillan of BritainThere is a new wind blowing in Africa
A wind of change sweeping across Africa
A wind the whole world is warned to take heed of
I saw the wind sweeping out the land of Africa
Opening the eyes of those under oppression
Shaking the bastions of colonialism to the root
Leaving a new flag of the people flying in the air
Today, I look here and there, I hear another sound
The wind has changed tone; this, now, is a dust-storm
A dust-storm that is ripping out the wiring from people’s minds
Turning the spear from the enemy to point at one’s own brother
Blinding the eyes so people can’t see where they are going
Dangling money in people’s faces, changing many into devils
It rips off the adornments from the legal thrones and throws them into the fire
It tramples on the flag of the people and hoists up the insides of little babies
When I look closely, I see a demonic dust-storm
A dust-storm that is shredding the umbilical cord
Even before the calf is ready to leave the womb
It has pulled out the ancestral prayer-tree, muhacha
And turned it upside down
With its roots to the sun!
© Translation: 2004, Charles Mungoshi
Chamupupuri
Chamupupuri
Ndakarinzwa shoko raMacmillan wekuBritainHanzi kwava nemhepo itsva inovhuvhuta muAfrika
Mhepo yotsvaira Afrika ichishandura zvose
Mhepo inofanirwa kucherechedzwa nepasi rose
Ndakaiona mhepo ichitsvaira nyika yeAfrika
Ichisvinudza meso evaya vari parumananzombe
Ichizunza mbambo dzeusvetasimba, kuti zu zu zu
Ichidokerwa yopeperetsa mureza weruzhinji rwevanhu
Ndotarisa uko nekoko nhasi ndoona imwe ngoma
Mhepo iya yasanduka ruvara, yava chamupupuri
Chamupupuri chodzura mbariro dzemisoro yevanhu
Choshezheudzira pfumo kune wamai, richisiya mhandu
Chodzimaidza meso, kufamba yangova fembera fembera
Chonyemudza mari, mari yosandura vamwe kuita zvigeven’a
Chobvuta nhembe dzezvigaro zvemagweta, chichikanda muchoto
Chobvarura mureza weruzhinji, chichiturika ura hwesvava
Ndikatarisisa ndinoona chamupupuri chine shavi
Chamupupuri chodambura-dambura rukuvhute –
Uku mhuru haisati yatombodongorera kuti ibude munhumbu
Kana mihacha, pokupirira, midzi yayo chaiturika mudenga!
© 1994, Chirikure Chirikure
From: Chamupupuri
Publisher: College Press, Harare
From: Chamupupuri
Publisher: College Press, Harare
Poems
Poems of Chirikure Chirikure
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Whirlwind
I heard the word from Macmillan of BritainThere is a new wind blowing in Africa
A wind of change sweeping across Africa
A wind the whole world is warned to take heed of
I saw the wind sweeping out the land of Africa
Opening the eyes of those under oppression
Shaking the bastions of colonialism to the root
Leaving a new flag of the people flying in the air
Today, I look here and there, I hear another sound
The wind has changed tone; this, now, is a dust-storm
A dust-storm that is ripping out the wiring from people’s minds
Turning the spear from the enemy to point at one’s own brother
Blinding the eyes so people can’t see where they are going
Dangling money in people’s faces, changing many into devils
It rips off the adornments from the legal thrones and throws them into the fire
It tramples on the flag of the people and hoists up the insides of little babies
When I look closely, I see a demonic dust-storm
A dust-storm that is shredding the umbilical cord
Even before the calf is ready to leave the womb
It has pulled out the ancestral prayer-tree, muhacha
And turned it upside down
With its roots to the sun!
© 2004, Charles Mungoshi
From: Chamupupuri
From: Chamupupuri
Whirlwind
I heard the word from Macmillan of BritainThere is a new wind blowing in Africa
A wind of change sweeping across Africa
A wind the whole world is warned to take heed of
I saw the wind sweeping out the land of Africa
Opening the eyes of those under oppression
Shaking the bastions of colonialism to the root
Leaving a new flag of the people flying in the air
Today, I look here and there, I hear another sound
The wind has changed tone; this, now, is a dust-storm
A dust-storm that is ripping out the wiring from people’s minds
Turning the spear from the enemy to point at one’s own brother
Blinding the eyes so people can’t see where they are going
Dangling money in people’s faces, changing many into devils
It rips off the adornments from the legal thrones and throws them into the fire
It tramples on the flag of the people and hoists up the insides of little babies
When I look closely, I see a demonic dust-storm
A dust-storm that is shredding the umbilical cord
Even before the calf is ready to leave the womb
It has pulled out the ancestral prayer-tree, muhacha
And turned it upside down
With its roots to the sun!
© 2004, Charles Mungoshi
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