South Africans managing to flee the humdrum
affairs of their lives – even criminals have their
sights focused on something other than crime:
The Springboks are ready to fight to a metaphorical
death for the Rugby World Cup come Saturday night;
Everywhere team-building spirit is seen: School kids
wearing the national gold and green; the Department
of Arts and Culture serving Potjiekos* to employees;
TV-presenters wearing Springbok clothes – a symbol
to unite the Nation of Rainbows
in their diverse approaches to life; I hope we simply win
because we are far behind the rest of the world; the
threat of Black Empowerment held over our heads;
even what little dignity we have left in a small corner
of sport is under siege –
without that, what more can I say – thank you Amore,
for being our answer to the Posh Beckham-syndrome;
thank you Steve for being our very own Bono; thank
you Mr Mbeki for being an ambassador of
the sufficiency of African inefficiency?
*Like bubble-and-squeak prepared in an iron pot over a fire outside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And, said through clenched teeth, congratulations.... :) t x