Tried to engage you in conversation about Libya,
you refused, more interested in rugby game feuds,
I thought I could prepare for my horrible document
by getting other people’s opinions, bought and read
two newspapers, they all said was Zuma did not
like what NATO did in Libya
I still have to translate my propaganda text; nowhere a
hint to stop being angry at the way my country presents
a bad performance when the UN and AU are involved –
you happily watch rugby on TV, I can’t reach a teacher
to tell me how to resolve my feelings, when we ask, we
are told the answer resides inside
In our own mind – well, I’ll have you know, the only things
I cherish are series of juvenile literature, every book I come
across delineating sweet ideals - the rest is so much dross,
modern society awards prizes to stars while denouncing
teenagers for doing the same thing unauthorised
- be famous first –
A world preaching moral behaviour while adoring those
who act immorally - have you not already realised that
trust, optimism and hope weigh more on the scales
of accomplishment than mere ethical rules?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem