The bearded men dance
and writhe with agony
mystical body movements
to the sound of vibrant drums.
Oh! My people
Who told you to repent
in a song of praise?
The priest bellows in his priest-craft
while some rolling, kneeling
and striking the ground.
My people want the road to happiness
the evil things that are here
will set with the sun in the west
Listen, as from today,bellows the priest…
Our souls and homesteads
are purified
Oh! Let childbirth come
let the cries of our children be heard.
The doors to happiness are open
Open to swallow my people
Let’s break the silence
to the hereafter.
A moment of freedom
comes to the limbs
and the babbling of tongues.
This moment of vision comes
every Sunday.
Will my people ever
reach heavens door?
Whispers of barbarism
and madness drip
from the lips of the civilised.
Come, let us sing the song of praise
Come along let us beat
the drums of praise.
Come, let us take the long
straight strides to happiness.
My people are on their way
to happiness every Sunday afternoon.
MKEI S. MTHEMBI