Serenade everything—everywhere
A translation of my Afrikaanse poem "Besing alles—alom"
“Self,” I order, “ensoul a verse: breathe over words
and let them live, let them sprout out of nothing
like desert flowers; let them gluttonously gape
like featherless chicks with an obese hunger for worms
and the great, open, wide heavens; let them jump off the page
like zebra foals after a thunderstorm: black striped letters
galloping clip-clop across white paper.
Listen, Soul, scribble or type or thumb a festive verse
for all that live—and ever lived—
an inspiring ode to words and possibilities.
For who’s to know if the sun
did not perhaps extinguish moments ago?
Thus, mortal man, before the cold darkness arrives,
serenade everything—everywhere.”
... Sanko Lewis
