Blue poncho, lunging with magenta umbrella
sword for an impromptu rendition of “Singing
In The Rain” - which my audience completely
failed to appreciate; I rediscovered waltzing &
deliriously happy got into the swing of things
Dancing with new joy in my step as I have very
seldom done these last three years & stepping
high in the anonymous fog - less than 1 000m
visibility, covering the Union Buildings, forcing
me to walk into the grounds to finally make out
Madiba standing there - hands aloft to bless us
all, singing as I go “It could’ve rained all night &
I’d still ‘ave begged for more” - certain Madiba’s
image inclined towards me in a fine gesture of
warm acceptance of me as one of the lost flock
Brought home safely
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem