Gedicht
Vonani Bila
Giyani Block
When the sun recedesinto the Soutpansberg,
Giyani Block puts on a
black adder coat;
a mirror of death and despair.
Doctors and nurses stand on their feet.
They shall not rest when the workers’ strike
ignites its furious flame.
They’re on tiptoe, looking up,
wrestling the faceless, tailless monster.
Death’s whistle rings,
Death is a bosom friend here.
He walks like a dragon snake in the mountain.
In this house, Death is a burrowing mole;
he digs a hole in a life on the brink.
In this house, Death is a lion
with sharpened teeth, awaiting a rabbit.
Whether you are the most feared inyanga
with a calabash full of muti,
or a priest with the bible in hand,
whether strong as an iron-breaker or weak as an outcast,
whether handsome, shining like the sun
or beauteous, dancing with the stars,
Giyani Block remains a black sea
that wrecks our boats,
leaving no evidence or trace.
In Giyani Block heavens fall,
towers come to ruins,
flowers fade away.
Poor granny has joined ‘ngoma’:
who\'ll dance till the balls of his feet are bloodied,
his pride is but history.
Ncindhani, my neighbour, is feeble,
washed away like a rope.
His shoulders like a clothes hanger,
the blue arteries along his hands straight
as the strings of Juluka’s guitar;
his eyes are clouds of death,
deeply sunken like the sun falling
into the mouth of the horizon.
When he puts the hospital jacket away,
fleshless ribs and his amulet stand out
like rinderpest, a drought-stricken goat
by the stream.
© Translation: 2004, Vonani Bila
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: Timbila Poetry Project, Elim, 2004
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: Timbila Poetry Project, Elim, 2004
Giyani Block
Giyani Block
Loko dyambu ri mitiwaHi tintshava ta Riyonde;
Giyani Block u hiza nguvu
Ya ntima dzwii, bya xiringa;
Nguvu ya xivuku xa rifu ni gome.
Tin’anga ni vaongori va tshama va yimile,
Nkarhi wo yiva moya
Hiloko xitereka xa vatirhi xi lumeka langavi ra vukari.
Va yime hi swikunwana, va tlatlambela
No pfinyana ni xihoza mampfula-nhloko ni ncila.
Loko xintswiriri xa Rifu xi ku ntswirr-
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i munghana
Wa le xifuveni-
U ntlokola bya ximememe ntshaveni.
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i mfukuzana-
U guba ncele ka masalela ya vutomi
Lebyi govekeke.
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i nghala
Leyi cinamiseke meno yi rindzela ximpfundlana;
U dzwavi ni phandzi kumbe m’fundhisi ni Bibele
Xandleni,
U ngengendza matshova-nsimbhi
Kumbe mafamba-borile,
U mpohlo mavoninga-bya-dyambu kumbe
Phyembye macina-ni-tinyeleti-
Giyani Block i lwandle ra ntima;
Swikwekwetsu swenu swi mbombemela
Ku nga Sali ni vumbhoni ni byin’we.
Kona Giyani Block tilo ra wa,
Makhokholo ya bodzoka.
Swiluva swa vuna.
Mana mukhalabya u nghene ngoma-
Vukhoba macina-u-baleka-ni-minkondzo,
Ku tsempfa-tsempfa swa tolo i matimu.
U herile, ko sala ricindha Ncindhani makhelwana!
Swiambalo swi lo hayekiwa ’makatleni ’ngi hengara.
Misiha ya rihlaza yi vambile mavokweni
bya swinari swa xigubu-nkatara ya Juluka.
Mahlo ya hundzuke mapapa ya rifu-
ma nwerile ndzeni ku fana ni dyambu
ri wela non’weni wa vuima-musi.
Loko a hluvula xijasana xa xibedlhele;
timbambu leti celekeke ni dyitshungulu hi
swona swi xewetaka bya mbuti ya
gwembe ni dyandza etlhelo ka xinambyana.
© 2004, Vonani Bila
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: Timbila Poetry Project, Elim
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: Timbila Poetry Project, Elim
Gedichten
Gedichten van Vonani Bila
Close
Giyani Block
Loko dyambu ri mitiwaHi tintshava ta Riyonde;
Giyani Block u hiza nguvu
Ya ntima dzwii, bya xiringa;
Nguvu ya xivuku xa rifu ni gome.
Tin’anga ni vaongori va tshama va yimile,
Nkarhi wo yiva moya
Hiloko xitereka xa vatirhi xi lumeka langavi ra vukari.
Va yime hi swikunwana, va tlatlambela
No pfinyana ni xihoza mampfula-nhloko ni ncila.
Loko xintswiriri xa Rifu xi ku ntswirr-
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i munghana
Wa le xifuveni-
U ntlokola bya ximememe ntshaveni.
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i mfukuzana-
U guba ncele ka masalela ya vutomi
Lebyi govekeke.
Endlwini leyi, Rifu i nghala
Leyi cinamiseke meno yi rindzela ximpfundlana;
U dzwavi ni phandzi kumbe m’fundhisi ni Bibele
Xandleni,
U ngengendza matshova-nsimbhi
Kumbe mafamba-borile,
U mpohlo mavoninga-bya-dyambu kumbe
Phyembye macina-ni-tinyeleti-
Giyani Block i lwandle ra ntima;
Swikwekwetsu swenu swi mbombemela
Ku nga Sali ni vumbhoni ni byin’we.
Kona Giyani Block tilo ra wa,
Makhokholo ya bodzoka.
Swiluva swa vuna.
Mana mukhalabya u nghene ngoma-
Vukhoba macina-u-baleka-ni-minkondzo,
Ku tsempfa-tsempfa swa tolo i matimu.
U herile, ko sala ricindha Ncindhani makhelwana!
Swiambalo swi lo hayekiwa ’makatleni ’ngi hengara.
Misiha ya rihlaza yi vambile mavokweni
bya swinari swa xigubu-nkatara ya Juluka.
Mahlo ya hundzuke mapapa ya rifu-
ma nwerile ndzeni ku fana ni dyambu
ri wela non’weni wa vuima-musi.
Loko a hluvula xijasana xa xibedlhele;
timbambu leti celekeke ni dyitshungulu hi
swona swi xewetaka bya mbuti ya
gwembe ni dyandza etlhelo ka xinambyana.
From: In the Name of Amandla
Giyani Block
When the sun recedesinto the Soutpansberg,
Giyani Block puts on a
black adder coat;
a mirror of death and despair.
Doctors and nurses stand on their feet.
They shall not rest when the workers’ strike
ignites its furious flame.
They’re on tiptoe, looking up,
wrestling the faceless, tailless monster.
Death’s whistle rings,
Death is a bosom friend here.
He walks like a dragon snake in the mountain.
In this house, Death is a burrowing mole;
he digs a hole in a life on the brink.
In this house, Death is a lion
with sharpened teeth, awaiting a rabbit.
Whether you are the most feared inyanga
with a calabash full of muti,
or a priest with the bible in hand,
whether strong as an iron-breaker or weak as an outcast,
whether handsome, shining like the sun
or beauteous, dancing with the stars,
Giyani Block remains a black sea
that wrecks our boats,
leaving no evidence or trace.
In Giyani Block heavens fall,
towers come to ruins,
flowers fade away.
Poor granny has joined ‘ngoma’:
who\'ll dance till the balls of his feet are bloodied,
his pride is but history.
Ncindhani, my neighbour, is feeble,
washed away like a rope.
His shoulders like a clothes hanger,
the blue arteries along his hands straight
as the strings of Juluka’s guitar;
his eyes are clouds of death,
deeply sunken like the sun falling
into the mouth of the horizon.
When he puts the hospital jacket away,
fleshless ribs and his amulet stand out
like rinderpest, a drought-stricken goat
by the stream.
© 2004, Vonani Bila
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: 2004, Timbila Poetry Project, Elim
From: In the Name of Amandla
Publisher: 2004, Timbila Poetry Project, Elim
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