the sun set
to its rest
by the sand dunes,
swaying its way
to the tip of a song
by the moon light,
sitting in circle
around the fire,
as the men dance
a hypnotic rhythm
around their women,
clapping and chanting
around a fire place
by the new moon..
their stories tell
of great lion warriors,
ritualists of custom
without barriers,
women as they gathered
in the wilderness,
hunters of fortune
by the moon,
travelers of miles
afar to the kalahari,
marvellers of science
to their roots
in a distant safari,
their quest
all manned to their needs,
as they sit
temporally for their feeds,
and sing
for the birds in their nests
...the pearls,
the jewel of the kalahari...
crawling insects crawled
by the desert winds
dwelling forth
to the closest means,
telling a history
of ants and the desert traveler
between the lines
of metaphysical values
of positivist but ancient statutes,
reeling their thoughts to attitudes
of cohesion and latitudes
of nomads in their spoken word
of art by the pearls of the kalahari..
opn11052013/1013
poem: “pearls of the kalahari”
book: “cold feet”
year: may 2013
book no.5 of 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem