I long for that sculpture that captured my soul
Strong and fearless
Tall, thick in clay, brown as the mugaca tree
Harmless yet powerful
Immortal, he seemed, must be a god I say
Stood by the riverside, with a far gaze
He above must have put him here
Is it a sign?
Many would want to see him and look in awe
How?
When the gods themselves must have sculptured this
This beauty, so masculine, powering and cowering
On the garden full of large nduma leaves
They cover us, in our rendezvous
And now, gone is my beautiful sculpture
Must be the season of rain
That washed my lovely clay-mast away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem