Mongane Wally Serote, Una mañana...

Taiwo y Khenide, The Lujadu Sisters

Una mañana

mi pueblo estará pendiente

de un amanecer...

nos enfrentaremos al sol...

dejando atrás

tantos muertos,

heridos,

locos,

tantas cosas absurdas,

habremos enterrado el 

apartheid -¿Cómo nos 

daremos la mano,

cómo nos abrazaremos 

ese día? ¿Cuáles serán 

nuestras primeras palabras?

-fragmento-

… one morning
my people will hang on a sunrise
as a child after falling would to its mother;

the morning

we shall stand face to face with the sun

like a woman would

who has been raped and raped and raped

a woman whose eyes will stare

whose face will be there without expression

for indeed

many words, many deeds and many things

shall have lost their old meanings;

we shall stand face to face with the sun

we shall hang on a sunrise

perch on the dawn of a day

leaving behind us

so many dead

wounded

mad

so many senseless things

we shall have buried Apartheid—

how shall we look at each other then,

how shall we shake hands,

how shall we hug each other that day?

ah

how shall we smile and laugh

what first words will we utter?

We are a wounded people

so many nights

have we huddled into our dark night

hurt

crying

learning to fight anew

so many nights—

what shall we look like when that sunrise

comes?

what shall we do with its first minute

first hour

first day?

B O N U S   T R A C K

Observaré lo que sucedió…

con el silencio con que las raíces de las plantas

agujerean la tierra

Mongane Wally Serote 

(Johannesburgo, Sudáfrica, 1944)

de A Tough Tale, Kliptown Books, London, 1987

en Poesía i-realidad, Editorial UNAB, Colombia, 2004

para leer + el EPDLP