Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ignatius T. Mabasa

Along Samora Machel

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

I saw her toss and turn
In my rear-view mirror
Before lying still, twisted
Next to her loaf of bread,
But I couldn’t stop.

Fearing the crowd would get me,
I drove on in the confusion
To flee from the chaos
To try and get home
If home was still there.

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But couldn’t stop.

Bullets were flying
People were dying.
Another mass uprising?

Along Samora Machel Avenue
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

A heavy truck reduced her to pulp
And this was no fiction.
I bled with her – profusely
But I just couldn’t stop!

MunaSamora Machel Avenue

MunaSamora Machel Avenue

MunaSamora Machel Avenue
Ndakatsika vamwe amai nemota
Asi handina kumira, ndakatiza

Ndakavaona pagirazi remumota
Mai vachibidirika nemarwadzo
Pedzisire vati pfau-pfau, favava, zii-i
Chingwa chavo chiri parutivi pavo
Asi handina kukwanisa kumira.

Nekutyira hupenyu hwangu
Ndakafambisa mota mubvonyongera
Ndichitiza bishi nebesanwa
Ndichivavarira kuenda kumba
Ndokunge kwakanga kuchinemba

MunaSamora Machel Avenue
Ndakatsika vamwe amai nemota
Asi handina kumira, ndakatiza

Mabara epfuti akanga achiridza miridzo
Vanhu vakanga vachitiza nehupenyu hwavo
Kwaive kutanga kwechimwe chimurenga here?
Hondo ine ropa, rufu nekuparadza…..

MunaSamora Machel Avenue
Ndakatsika vamwe amai nemota
Asi handina kumira, ndakatiza

Ndakavaona vachikuyiwa negonyeti
Ruwoko rukadambuka, musoro ukaputika
Mwoyo wangu wakajuja ropa navo
Asi handina kumira, ndakatiz
Close

Along Samora Machel

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

I saw her toss and turn
In my rear-view mirror
Before lying still, twisted
Next to her loaf of bread,
But I couldn’t stop.

Fearing the crowd would get me,
I drove on in the confusion
To flee from the chaos
To try and get home
If home was still there.

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But couldn’t stop.

Bullets were flying
People were dying.
Another mass uprising?

Along Samora Machel Avenue
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

A heavy truck reduced her to pulp
And this was no fiction.
I bled with her – profusely
But I just couldn’t stop!

Along Samora Machel

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

I saw her toss and turn
In my rear-view mirror
Before lying still, twisted
Next to her loaf of bread,
But I couldn’t stop.

Fearing the crowd would get me,
I drove on in the confusion
To flee from the chaos
To try and get home
If home was still there.

Along Samora Machel Avenue,
I knocked a woman down
But couldn’t stop.

Bullets were flying
People were dying.
Another mass uprising?

Along Samora Machel Avenue
I knocked a woman down
But I didn’t stop.

A heavy truck reduced her to pulp
And this was no fiction.
I bled with her – profusely
But I just couldn’t stop!
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Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
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