After I have communed with them,
With dead men’s ideas;
‘Nya dyang’ ’ comes to me
With accusing persuasion:
‘Come, “wuod twon”,
My activities are vital.’
I do not let my testicles
Be crushed when I am wide awake
By the ghosts of an alien clan
In the half-lighted book-cave;
No!
W'hen I sheathe the family spear
And unfeather the poison-horned arrow;
‘When I expose the daughter of the low land
To village gossip and contempt;
Then the books that I read
Smash my testicles in my sleep!
My testicles
Have not been smashed
By heavy books!
‘Ocol.
Letting their heavy tongues ~
Like ‘rungus’ —
Butt my balls to wind's dust;
No!
Like the emissary
Of a semi-famished land,
Or the scout of a belligerent army
I brew with the enemy
And drink with my people.
And when I return home
To the daughter of the brave one,
The yeast from the low land
Makes my manhood
Rise.
Peter Anyang’-Nyong’o (born 1945) Kenya
Source: Poems from East Africa edited by David Cook and David Rubadiri, East African Publishers, 1996
Wonderful find
ReplyDeletephallic imagery at work
ReplyDeleteMy all time favorite
ReplyDeleteI like the maturity of language here
ReplyDeleteMy best poem. Always keeps me going
ReplyDeleteLike Okot Ps I look up to such
ReplyDeleteWhat a poem
ReplyDeleteCan I get your email address please
ReplyDeleteI would rather not provide it in public, sorry. Is there a specific reason why you want to contact me?
DeleteHow can I access the analysis of this poem
ReplyDeleteThis is a personal blog of poems I like, not a poetry analysis site. Sorry I can't help you.
DeleteMasterpiece 🤭😇📝
ReplyDelete