Thursday 27 May 2010

THE ANNIVESSARY LULLABY: JULIUS SAI MUTYAMBIZI-DEWA

THE ANNIVESSARY LULLABY: JULIUS SAI MUTYAMBIZI-DEWA

In the town I grew up, there is a road that always goes east
It does not matter which direction you are coming from
Be it the east, the west, the north or the south, the road just leads to your east
And it is confusing at intersections, you can see traffic lights failing to instruct
And as you go along on your way, you can see it is full of mysteries
Its history is its first mystery, it can never be verified
Even by records, even by carbon dating
Its monuments can never tell the truth
But one thing remains very true
Whenever you take the road you are heading to the east

If we win the Ashes again, we will give the word love a new meaning
Even if the batting was not so convincing
The battling spirit gives you a good win
We make up, and break up


There is a sentiment among the weak, that says love cannot triumph
They maintain there is a streak that once you follow a road, and if it is one that leads in the wrong direction
It can be a path, a crescent, a drive, a way, an avenue or a street
Going to the east, to the west, to the south or the north
But so long it is the wrong road, and you are in the middle you cannot turn back

But I have tried it when making love, I face upright, downright, sideways, to the left, to the right but still come back
Overpowered by the will to do the right thing
Just as taking the road in my old town
Which always goes east, no matter where you are coming from
From your right, from your left, from the east, the west, the north and south
But once in the middle you could still make a choice, so long you had the voice
To return to the your right path
Just like the battling game of cricket; you can watch the wickets fall and the runs come
But if you just remember that

If you win the Ashes again, We give the word love a new meaning
Even if the batting was not so convincing
The battling spirit gives you a good win
We make up, and break up


I can wrong you a million times You can wrong me a million times
Saying sorry in different tones and borrowed accents
Paying tonnes of regret but one thing remains counting
That the love we pursue is flexible
Tested by carbon dating; bringing the same result; burying false dating
It is walled with strong bricks and thatched with beautiful grass
And you know there is a song I taught you
But it’s you who added the chorus
It was accidental because you stammered in the middle of the first verse
Even though I choked, laughing at you, I poked you nevertheless
And together we sung as we lay on our new bed

If we win the Ashes again, we give the word love a new meaning
Even if the batting was not so convincing
The battling spirit gives you a good win
We make up, and break up


JULIUS SAI MUTYAMBIZI-DEWA

Wednesday 26 May 2010

THE MESSIAH'S RHAPSODY

THE MESSIAH’S RHAPSODY: JULIUS SAI MUTYAMBIZI-DEWA

There is a man told in scripture and at difficult times
Literature and orature
He was born on Christmas day
And he died on Easter
Those who revered him sung for him a beautiful song
HOZA-NA HOZAAANA HOZANA

He influences Saints and dies for martyrs
Yet there are no words written on his epitaph
They say his love is big
My mother says the same, my father says the same
I don’t know what to tell my son and how to tell my daughter
About the love of a man who influenced Saints
And died for martyrs
BUT I CAN HEAR WAVES SIEVING MY VEINS
THEY SAY HOZA-NA HOZAAANA HOZANA HOZANA


He loved to walk with the poor, and fed them from his spoon
In boom times and in boon times he would bloom
As he poured a cocktail of love
Treading like a dove, siding with lepers
Not taking them as lemurs which are left to sleep
He filled hearts with happiness
And relieved the sad of their sorrow
Chilling their marrow
AND ALL THOSE WHO REVERED HIM WOULD SING ALONG
HOZA-NA HOZAAANA HOZANA HOZANA


Whatever the meaning of the sermons they preach
To the ears of the faithful and the non-believers
The word of LOVE carries the same meaning
Whatever the language; audible or visible
I know the way to teach my son, however I do
As long as I reach the veins of his heart
AND I WILL BE SINGING HIM THE BEAUTIFUL SONG
HOZA-NA HOZAAANA HOZANA HOZANA


As they grow to find love, in the middle of a challenging world
I will tell my son to open his heart......and make his body a beautiful hut
Looking for the love of a woman who will influence him to be a Saint
To follow the scent of the man I have heard in scripture
I have listened for the umpteenth time
No matter what side you are, but for his love I will follow the scent
And love to exceed the love of Saints, and sacrifice more than Martyrs!
AND I WILL SING THE SONG, THAT APPRECIATES LOVE
HOZA-NA HOZAAANA HOZANA HOZANA