They came in the middle of the night
in a huge crowd, almost like a lynching gang
the type who previously had torched,
burned their own alive
and in their hands were panga-blades,
spades, crowbars, pistols
and AK-47 sub-machineguns
and then there were the younger ones
who carried assegai spears and knives
and they were there to destroy home and hearth
to wipe the white farmer from the earth
singing: “a bullet for a white”
and had formed up like a ancient impi
in full might
and they assaulting the farmer, his children and wife
while shouting:
“Amandla! Amandla! Ngawethu! ”
and took law into their own hands,
robbed, tried to rape, to kill
while receiving an inhuman thrill from it.
[Reference: Do Not Ask Me by Daniel P. Kunene.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem