There Lies...... Poem by Gideon Matungamidze

When my mouth the truth of my heart speaks,
Some say say behind their fingures, 'There lies the liar! '
When from toil I retire recumbent but healthy,
They say before the draperies, 'There lies him sick! '
When pollutants finally get me to ail,
Others say beyond the sickbed, 'There lies him from ale! '
When I shall finally go cold and stiff and still,
None I pray, shall by the epitaph engrave:
'Here lies the man who lied,
Now entombed for lying sick
From the ailments by ale! '
But I pray they shall engrave something like:
'Here lies him who never lied,
Nor from ale never ailed,
But from the world's hazards
Met his inevitable hour,
May his soul rest in his peaceful drunkenness.'
And they must place aside me in the casket
A bottle of stiff and cold whisky
That I may still speak to myself and say,
'Here lies me stiff, still and cold,
With my stiff and cold whisky
Which I shall still drink even a'heaven! '