Hom! Wait a minute! In the Cape

we stumbled in starting:—

Halahoyi, you in the Cape!

Something stinks

like the river snake

fouling the air.

“We stumbled in starting!

Things fell apart,” says Maxeke,

hunting those who scattered

and took to the hills.

Halahoyi! In the Cape

they seek a ford,

for Government troops

met Phalo's,

and we slipped off

like swallows.

So says Maxeke,

white-flanked kite:

first we'll find

a ford for ourselves—

then King George

can set his seal.

Hom! Wait a minute!

Return to the battlefield:

our men are butchered

by bladeless spears.

Peace!

We seek a ford to ferry

first one dove then the rest;

we want them all, even those

who egg on the troops but stay home themselves.

We stumbled in starting!

We seek a ford,

a long rope for hauling

the lame as well.

The slope is benighted,

we seek a ford:

our fathers abandoned us,

a flock without kindling.

Halahoyi! Remove your shoes

and seek a ford,

so that your chiefs

can lick the cream.

We stumbled in starting!

So says Maxeke,

great greybeard

of Ngxokozelo.

We stumbled in starting,

weak at the knees,

stirred into gruel

by their rifles as spoons.

We seek a ford,

for what we have

is merely cosmetic,

no more than skin deep.

Hom! Wait a minute!

We stumbled in starting!

This year it seems

is a year of wonders.

Our fathers abandoned us

with no ford in sight,

our heads strewn with tatters

like those of diviners.

“Come! Here's the ford!”

cries the voice of a Nation

established by power

of heaven and earth.

We stumbled in starting,

white as snow.

Maxeke says

our women wither.

There's no real split:

we're rivers adrift

till the morning star

dawns on Africa.

Peace!

Maxeke's split?

Pastor, the weight of your loads!

Mercy, Mimosa,

twisting in falling,

branches yet reaching

out to its own.

Mercy!

In the Cape

we stumbled in starting!

We pick no bones,

but arms are to hand.

So says Find-at-the-Door-

What-you-Shot-from-Inside.

When we find the ford

we'll all kneel together,

pleading our souls

before God Almighty.

Mercy!

Come back, Africa!

We seek a ford,

lest our children

bloat from neglect.

Hom! Wait a minute!

Stop mucking about.

Shut the churches,

return to the battlefield.