AFRICAN SONG

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It must be three harvests,
No four and probably five
(How quickly one forgets)
A man came to our house
And said in a few words:
‘What I have come for is friendship.’

.

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‘What kind of friendship?’
My father dared to ask.

‘What kind of friendship?
Why Aged One,
Do I tire you so soon?
I have come for friendship,
Just friendship,
Giving and taking,
Living and creating life.
Now do I speak bad
Of this good house?’
So he sat down
And repeated:
‘I have come for friendship
And let me stretch my hand
To greet you all
Starting with the Aged One.’

.

.
‘What kind of friendship?’
My father asked again.

‘Friendship, just friendship,
The kind that will last
Through all time
When the sun is high
And when it bends over distant hills
Friendship-
Bashful like a new moon
Present with or without the sun
And touching the nipple of the heart
Not looking back
Or forwards.
I have come for friendship
Going on and going on
Until heaviness of age
Enfolds it
Into the broken earth
Friendship-
Just giving itself more and more,
Day and night,
Until breathing together is complete.
.

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- Sam Tulya-Muhika
(East African Poet)