Song of a chopped Acacia


Hubada gezag

Tempo di mi tempo,
Back in my day,
ora mondi tabata reina,
when the bush reigned,
cu splendor mi tabata briya,
I glowed with splendor,
cabrito so tabata morde na mi sumpiña.
only the goat nibbled on my thorns.

Awo cu ta tempo di progreso,
Now that it is time for progress,
economia a tumba nos dinastia.
economy has overthrown our dynasty.

Awo den dia cu no ta anos so,
Now, in the day where it's not just us,
ta presta sombra na e mayoria.
who lend our shade to the majority.

Por ta hende mester tur espacio pa florece,
Perhaps man needs all the room to bloom,
ma ta dikon naturaleza su generacion mester perece?
but why does nature's generation have to perish?


E zonido di e metal importa,
The sound of the imported metal,
cu a corta mi bena, lagando mi remata,
that cut my veins, finishing me off,
ainda ta tril mi blachi, sinceramente defrauda.
is still shaking my leaves, sincerely let down.

E hubada cu un dia e paisaje tabata laga tur dorna,
The acacia that once decorated the scenery,
awe ta yora su ultimo cantica,
today cries his last song,
na un amigo distante y cambia.
to a distant and changed friend.

© Auterkeia Nihil

March 2007




Poetry by Autie
Read 820 times
Written on 2007-04-11 at 16:06

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Rob Graber
This is wonderful, Autie. Line 9 happens to be so great in English... This poem's nuanced ambivalence lifts it far above garden-variety tree-hugging... Excellent!
2007-04-11