By The Day Thabani Will Die Poem by Thabani Khumalo

By the day Thabani will die
with his eyes closed in a shiny wooden box;
the clappers and the clapping hands shall begin to play -
heaven and hell shall begin to sing.

Lower me down like the others bygone,
under the muddy pit for me to eternally mourn over gravely
when I return like some powerful fit of demonic evil -
and fiend after fiend my children do dramatize.

The land shall begin to yield in rich crops;
the easy blue breeze shall begin to blow
and the creamy waters of the rural river shall forever overflow,
and continue so to quench even the greedy thirst of a blinded politician;

The mayfair shall feed and strong beast they shall breed;
workers shall multiply and the children of man shall joyously play,
they shall cut a roasted steak to the dog and drink dairy as though calves;

The stars shall dawn to a day gleaming with dew of precious stones;
A new devine nature shall adorn the face of mother earth;
there will be a banquet between the places of Heaven and Hell;

All my lovely friends shall receive many precious gifts,
and their contagious joy shall rally the people to really dance.
As for the world in its bountiful nature -
I will leave in the name of the beautiful woman I deeply love.

Then the Abyss of the highest Gods would receive a new King.
As the king of all the Gods,
I will design a star that guides my people into peace,
all this projected lie will diminish and end.