Monday, November 23, 2009

her name means rain and he calls her

He mumbles in his sleep

Nyaaam,
Nyammburaaa,
Nyam buraaaaa

Her name means Rain
and she is real,
and she is slender,
and he needs her.

Rain falls in the slums,
he mumbles in his sleep,
Nyambu raaaa aa,
Nyamburaaa.

Rain falls on the sea,
he sees water,
he touches Hope.
Rain falls drum drum
into the red mud of our slum,
he feels fear;
but fear touches hope and;
for love he gropes!

Raindrops drip through little places,
and on he dreams.
As in the waste material roof,
Hope begs a home.
Dumpsite touches red disease,
hope touches blood.
He dreams in the distance
of senility streams,
His love named after rain
like a river of hope,
Oh, Nyamburaaaaa!

And rain drums on parts
of tin for a roof like a lullaby;
aching feet and soul
can really hope, drip drip.
We share the rhythm,
it fills the air,
we share tiredness,
it brings us sleep.
We share the desire, of love so deep;
beyond slum sleep is beauty too.

Hope Rain; drum on;
Hope drum Rain Hope!,
the rich have nightmares
of a loveless shore,
The poor man’s heart rivulets
of love; rain our soul,
hold our heart!
The soul of a nation,
the thread of humanity,
our much needed stroke!


Kouma holds on to muddled dreams,
trembling on,
asks himself,
Do you know her, Nyamburaa,
have you seen her, Kouma asks?
Have you seen her lovely white teeth,
he mumbles,
Nyamburaa, who brings the rains?


Sun rising imperceptibly,
like a grain of wheat in a sheaf,
and by a ray of sunshine gently
touched and basked.
Like a grain of sand bathing alone,
like a raindrop falling and splashing,
into greater water in the sea.
Water hugging itself in hope,
mumbling gum Nyambura’s
Forehead kissing,
The magic moment
of Hope even here,
he grasps and takes
to the other life!

No comments: