News Of My Mother - Jean Baptiste Tati-Loutard

I am now very high upon the tree of the seasons;

Far below I see the firm earth of the past.

When the fields opened themselves to the flow of seed

Before the baobab took aim at a flight of birds

With the first call of the sun,

It was your footsteps which sang around me:

A shower of bells chiming with my ablutions.

I am now very high upon the tree of the seasons.

Know by this fifteenth day of the moon

It is these tears – up till now –

Which fill your absence,

Which lighten drop by drop your image

Too heavy on my pupil;

Each night I waken drenched through with your pain

Even as if you lived in me again.

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Jean Baptiste Tati-Loutard (1938 - 2009) Republic of the Congo

Source: The Slow Room