Three poems by Mboneni Ike Muila

13 April 2006 before the Passover eve

All biza play en no thesha
reduces jacky to
a madala boy
koppie dice no drakes
from one street corner to corner
all binge en puffing
change pozi
before the Passover eve
sunrise parade
thru the streets of Soweto
dawn until dusk while
all binge en puffing mjucate
kwaito sound splash
kha vhari xwa ngeno++++++++++++++++(hurry up and lean on this side
hune vhanwe vhatshiamba++++++++++++where other people speak
vhanga vho hadzingelwa++++++++++++++as if someone fried
mathuthu mulomoni++++++++++++++++++popcorn in their mouth)
before the Passover eve

I am not

i am not a roadblock
striker busted or
a steep slope
searching slide sethoba mazenke
forcevuur trigger jazzman star black pajero
suffer gate mourn malombo kite

i am not a flatroller thesha spin
tricycle green belt tsingandededze
by en bye
even in high vista rows
thiza ntanjane blazer phola cap
banana kar stork sweets badge
dorpenaar topshaela or molaola siphithiphithi
traffic cop sefate

i am not a town hall speedometer ball
trinity joke
in times of your life span
or a wheelbarrow crank
fix it all tick toes tick
foul feet take your times en fry

i am not

Elelwani N. P Muila (Oct, 1984)

ranga u thetshelesa ngeno
iwe mafuka duvha
u nembelela ha shamba
asi u wa halo
vhe tshikwatamba tsha luranga
ponze ifa yo nambatela mulivho
vho muvhuya phedza dza nga
ndi luvha nga ndothe
musanda a thiluvhelwi
a huna gota
li no luvhela linwe
la u tavhela u li ore
liyo tavhela vhanwe vho
naledzani ndi muila
phalalani tsengela tsiwana
fhasi dzi thavhani
vhu ima mbidi na khongoni
phalalani muila matavhelo
buka li sa ori duvha
muthannga musekene
mutamba na vhokunaho
muthannga a sa li vhutete
ngau shavha u tetemela
muila tshivhindi tsha nguluvhe
a sa li phinimini
muila thende ya lufheto
wa thumbu
i nou phangwa mahe
mutavha ya xa
heke..,kha la venda


Translation by Mboneni Ike Muila

In remembrance of N.P Muila (Oct, 1984)

listen here first
you who wear the sun
the dangling of a wild fruit
does not mean it is falling down
the hard core stalk of a pumpkin stem
dies attached to the mother plant
those who play smart with my flock of cattle
i worship on my own
in the royal house no one who worships for me
there is no headman
who worships for the other headman
if the sun rises and shines on you go for it
tomorrow the sun rises and shines for others as well
no rejection is sacred
rescue and save the poor
down in the mountain valley
down near the station of wild animals and zebras
rescue sacred midday sunshine
which animal does not bask in the sun
a slim gentleman
who baths with pure ones
a gentleman who does not eat soft porridge
cause of fear to shake
a white liver is sacred to him
he who does not eat a parrot
a handle tip of a stirring spoon is sacred to him
with a tummy
which when splashed with sand
remains flat
yeah right.., Venda

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