Sobbing my way
through the entire
national awards
for bravery, service
and excellence.
It was just as well
I watched on television
and wasn’t
at the ceremony
or worse still,
was one of the recipients
especially
for those there who cannot swim
or were wearing colours that run.
I know
and don’t know
why
I was unable
to still
the sobs
and then there was
that advertisement
I have seen so many, many times
and last night
the day after Freedom Day
it showed four times
and each time as before
but these four times
more adamant than ever before
I swore (and the fourth time, proper-swore)
I was not, not, not
going to cry
but when it came
to the part where
the little girl
on the stage singing
our South African anthem
in four languages
forgets the last few lines
and after a few agonising moments
where the audience feels her pain
one young woman
eases into it
on a microphone
and the audience of hundreds
join in
and the little girl too
her eyes and smile
lighting up
with joy and ubuntu
and on the last line
raises her arms
in namaste celebration
each time
my strong will
failed me
and my throat convulsed
and the tears flowed...
One, day
I will
will
will
watch that advertisement
and
not
not
not
cry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem