He disappeared when autumn sang the last hymn.
Trees cogitate in silent and poetry shall not express grief; we shared shade while dismantle our problems
And
Marvelled at our metamorphosis, you poured chivasregal in a calabash
Our thoughts sailed upon endless seas; punctuated by laughter which revive our being.
Oh!
may the tale be narrated to your seed
That no oxymoron
Nor euphemism and syntex can describe the scald tears of a poet
Makhosonke Dhlamini
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem