About Advertise
Art, Culture
Toni Stuart

Ma, I’m Coming Home

by Toni Stuart / 02.08.2013

Toni Stuart is a poet, writer and journalist. Toni started writing poetry at 15, and it was her love for writing that led to a career in journalism. Toni’s vocal canvas is a cacophony of vibrations that take us on a journey beyond language. Her words inspire sensations and memories that intertwine us through understanding. Painting a silhouette of longing with her voice, she cajoles us into reminiscing about our own desires for a picturesque past.

Ma ek ko huis toe

Ma,
ek ko huis toe
daai berg wat blou
oor ons stad le,
roep my;
in ie donke ure van ie nag
sy stem
praat my ore sag
en ie lied van ie suid-oos wind maak
lawaai in
my lee mag

Ma,
ek ko huis toe
my hart is vol van verlange
en ie trane wat soos klippe
oor my wange loop
le hard en swaar op my bors
en maak ie asemhaal moeilik

die vel onder my voete is afgeskeur
van ander lande
se paaie en ander mense
se pein
deurloop

Ek mis
ie see
en ie ruik van sout
wat voor ons voordeur le
op ‘n somer oggend
geswel met ie hitte

ek mis ie tonge en taal
van my mense
en hul stemme
wat plat oor ie woorde val

die bloed in my are
klop aan ‘n ritme
wat ek in hierdie groen land ie vind ie

Ma,
ek ko huis toe
daai berg wat blou

oor ons stad le,
roep my;
in ie donke ure van ie nag
sy stem
praat my ore sag
en ie lied van ie suid-oos wind maak
lawaai in
my lee mag

Ma,
ek ko huis toe
die grote wereld se tyd is verby
en ek wil weereens le
langs
jou sy

Translation:

Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart
Ma,
I’m coming home
my heart overflows with yearning
and the tears roll down my cheeks
like rocks
and pull the breath from my lungs
i have walked through the skin
on the soles of my feet
winding through another country’s streets
another people’s pain
I miss
the sea
and the smell of salt
that finds its way to our front door
on summer morning’s
swollen with heat
I miss the voices and words
of my people
and the way their tongues
hold words in their mouths: flat and rough then sometimes flat
and smooth
the blood in my veins
beats to a rhythm
I cannot find in this green land
Ma,
I’m coming home
that mountain towering
over our city like a blue hue,
beckons
in the molasses folds of midnight
his voice
softens the folds of my ears
and the south-easter
sings in b-flat
as it winds through my empty heart

Ma,
I’m coming home
it’s time to leave the world behind
now it’s you who
I want to lay
beside

*For more on Toni Stuart and other Pan-African poets please visit Badilisha Poetry website, produced by the Africa CentreYou can also read Toni’s blog here.

5   0
LEAVE A REPLY

Loading...