Saturday, 18 August 2012

MY SONS ARE NOT

Drums don’t beat anymore
The once noisy night has gone dumb
so our hearts
The town is as quiet as a graveyard, even
Jimmy Jimmy the drunkard has gone to sleep

Where is the youth leader? Nobody knows
Has he travelled to visit his in-laws? No
Has he gone to see his concubine? No
Has he gone in search of our enemies? No
 So where is he? Where is she? Nobody knows

Fathers cannot find their sons, and mothers their daughters
There is no one to go and bring firewood
They have gone to the city, says Dzifa the village gossip
Who will go in search of our men and tell them of our dying farms?
Who will leave his plantation to go in search of our missing sons?

So mothers sit to eat
They eat the bread of sorrow in tears
Humming songs in limbo
They know all is not well
The men don’t know what to do

Fireside stories no more drips from the lips of the aged
Fireside stories today sit in history books’ corolla
The dusty market square is beseck with silence at night
No music is heard, no one is there to sing and dance
The place of the chief linguist is vacant and exalted with dust
No one will take his place; No one is there to take his place!
Elders know all is not well, they sing the same chorus
Where is my son? Where is my daughter?
Fathers cannot find their sons, and mothers their daughters
There is no one to go and bring firewood
They have gone to the city, says Dzifa the village gossip
Who will go in search of our men and tell them of our dying farms?
Who will leave his plantation to go in search of our missing sons?

So mothers sit to eat
They eat the bread of sorrow in tears
Humming songs in limbo
They know all is not well
The men don’t know what to do

Fireside stories no more drips from the lips of the aged
Fireside stories today sit in history books’ corolla
The dusty market square is beseck with silence at night
No music is heard, no one is there to sing and dance
The place of the chief linguist is vacant and exalted with dust
No one will take his place; No one is there to take his place!
Elders know all is not well, they sing the same chorus
Where is my son? Where is my daughter?


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