Everybody is crazy
i'm not rich nor lazy
i began to search and find
why i have pain in mind
the world still want to pounce me
death or love? Onions or tea
poetry has stolen my heart
love is stealing me back at night
i cried silently in church
this darkness without a torch
Lord! This death lurks
at every corner with big forks
save! Save! Lord, i'm faulty
this high faculty
leads astray
like a governor's silly money spray
Relieved and saved
mercifully relieved
'hey Paul after church
now taller than me like Crouch'
'beautiful' Martha said
so nuts in my head
Shameful the boy was
calculated his crazy loss
God! Oswald Mtshali
your poems are living lille
i curbed the thoughts
Lord cancelled those faults
Martha wanted to be mine
restored back to a new line
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem