We are here (at Porta Farm)

At night before we sleep, we say, “See you tomorrow”,
There is no point in saying, “Sleep well”,
It is clear to all of us - babies, boys, old folk -
The slushy muddy earth is our bed, the biting wind our blanket

Waking up, in the morning, it’s simply, “Daybreak”
No one bothers to ask, “Did you sleep well?”
We all know who snored loudest, who sneezed or who fought,
The walls of our hovels are just very thin paper.

It will go on and on like this, as far as we can see,
Till – maybe – the day a big benevolent whirlwind will come
And lift us all up, up – our shacks, dogs and all –
Up, up and up into the sky like Elijah in his chariot of fire,
BUT I don’t see us landing in the presence of
The Almighty in Heaven: We are sinners!

Tiri pano (paPorta Farm)

Tiri pano (paPorta Farm)

Pakuvata, manheru, tinongoti, “Ave mangwana”,
Ichokwadi, hazvina njere kuti: “Muvate zvakanaka”
Inga zvingori pachena: svava, majaya, chembere,
Dope ndirwo rukukwe, mwando ndiro gumbeze!

Pakumuka, mambakwedza, inongova, “Kwayedza”,
Hongu, hazvina musoro kubvunzana: “Ko mavata sei?”
Ungabvunza zviri pamhene akaita ngonono, dzihwa, dzivo?
Handiti madziro ematumba edu angori mapepa?

Zvicharamba vakadaro, sekuonawo kwedu isu,
Kusvika zuva rakuchauya chamupupuri chikuru kuru
Chigotiti simu, nezvitumba zvedu, zvese neimbwa,
Tigoti hwiru hwiru kunge ngoro yemoto yaErija:
Asi handioni tichiti dzi-i pana Yave: Takan’ora!