Hear someone speaking:—

Editor, thanks for the poets’ column

I'm still here, a young man and no poet.

I just like to be on top, Editor:

clubs are at hand but I fight with lightning.

From the stream came the song of the maidens,

from the outposts and empty villages

of the lands of the Sotho and Hlubi:

come out, Scriptures, and explain it to us.

The truth is there in the scriptures

and also within our blankets.

Without this love we're nothing,

there's no faith, nothing of worth.

Look now, I want you to understand,

please ask yourself if I'm telling the truth.

What has power greater than love?

It banishes pride and brings understanding.

I was amazed and astonished,

that we would perish without it.

And Jesus rules heaven by love,

through him earth and heaven are joined.

What has power greater than love,

full of compassion, free of spite?

It thatches a hut with less than ten bundles:

it's borrowed nothing from whites.

We soiled the word of God,

mixed our faith with pride.

We Reds prevailed against you,

consumed as you are by envy.

Without this love we're nothing,

our faith's worth nothing at all.

Mercy, Faith, witches’ cave,

source of sweet and bitter waters.

Faith is gaunt, lean as a rake,

it comes in chameleon colours;

without love it is nothing at all,

it burns as on the day of judgement.

Even prophecies will end,

even speeches will stop,

without love all things will cease,

I swear by Ndlambe; you'll be amazed.

Celebration began before fighting ceased

but there's bullying right in the churches.

We heard the roar of the word of God,

brought by mocking sorcerers.

Where are the leaders the likes of Joshua

who had love, and rose from a fall,

whose prayer stopped the sun in its tracks

so it shone fullface on the mountains.