A CELEBRATION OF FLAMES
© Farouk Asvat
Do not disturb
The sanctity of my home
When you throw a molotov
Through the shattered pain:
All over the land
Children, put your mothers out
Raze their homes
In a celebration of flames
And acrid tyres smelling of life
Build a bonfire of ashes
Ululating with delight,
And then
Without name or face
Bury yourselves
If you still possess the skin of shame
And you,
Flaunting the tribal feathers of liberation
And you, assuming the crown
In purple robes of piety
Or golden robes of rhetoric,
Make glib statements
Counting score
Of dead and maimed
Amongst our own
On rosaries that flame with burning flesh
What
are we
Reduced
to?
What
insanity
Now
drives my people
From the fires
Of
liberation
To
the corpses of doom
Writhing
In
the dance
Of
a final
Farewell.
All around me I see ruin.
The ruin of land
The ruin of people
Convoys
of dusty hippos
Patrol the blood-laden streets
Of
another jungle
Shooting
innocent blood:
Children
contorted in happy games
Mothers
shot in the moment of birth
Virgins
driven to a lonely veld
Echoing
with the madness of their lives
And you, my brother,
Do not stir in your rotten grave
Lie awake and wonder
How they deny your naked ghost
Tied to a chain,
For Azania is up in flames again
And even your friends do not remember
The anguish of its dreams
And you, son of the soil,
Do not ponder too long
Let the gods keep you there
In your heaven of so many sorrows,
For so few
Carry burning memories
Of a feverish uprising
That history books have forgotten
And you, my comrade,
Do not pace too many times
For they do many things in your name
Carry you on bright banners
So you can roam your cage in agitation
And watch a country burn
To cinders of despair
In the anthem of the revolution
©
farouk asvat
composed: June 1985 [Johannesburg, South
Africa under apartheid]
[] Acknowledgements:
A
Celebration Of Flames was
previously published in:
A Celebration of
Flames (donker, p67-69, 1987);
Dokumente Texte und
Tendenzen VIII
(Evangelische Akademie,
Germany, p163, 1987);
Matatu: Towards Liberation:culture and resistance
in south africa
ed G Davis, M Manaka, J Jansen (Göttingen,
Germany, # 3(4), p46, 1988);
A Celebration
of Flames (Heller Fund, UC Berkeley, United
States, p57, 1988);
Een Feest Van Flammen:
Dutch translation by Irene Scheltes, (1989);
Broken Strings: the politics of poetry in south africa
ed S Finn, R Gray
(Maskew Miller Longman,
Cape Town, p130-132`, 1992);
African Literature In The
Eighties (Matatu 10),
ed D Riemenschneider, F
Schulze-Engler,
(Rodopi, Amsterdam, Netherlands &
Atlanta, 1993);
A Celebration of
Flames (piquant publications, p92-94, 2007);
Alevlar
Den Bir Kutlama: Turkish translation
by İlyas Tunç,:
Contemporary South African
Poetry Anthology,
Çağdaş
Güney Afrïka Şïrï Antolojïsï
(Bencekitap Publishing, Istanbul,
p231, 2013);
A Celebration Of Flames (kindle, 2014);
A Celebration Of Flames (amazon paperback, p90, 2014).
______________________________________________________________
[§] Books
by Farouk Asvat:
● Sadness In The House Of Love (novel)
● The Gathering Of The Storm (novel)
● I Dream In Long Sentences (poetry)
● The Wind Still Sings Sad
Songs (poetry)
● A Celebration Of Flames (poetry)
● The Time Of Our Lives (poetry)
● Bra Frooks … (poetry)*
● The Paanies Are Coming (short
stories)*
● In The
House Of Love (novel)*
● Weapons Of Words
(comparative literature &
literary criticism)
¨ all my books are now available on amazon: in
paperback & kindle
______________________________________________________________
© farouk asvat. All rights reserved.
Farouk
Asvat asserts his moral right to be
identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may
be reproduced by any means whatsoever, or transmitted in any form or any means
whatsoever, mechanical or electronic, including recording, printing,
photocopying, or via any computerised means or media, including the
internet. This publication shall also
not be stored in a retrieval system. And
the writing shall not be sold, lent, hired, resold or circulated in any form or
binding or cover other than that in which it is published,
without the prior permission of the author in writing.
Permission
to publish or reproduce the writings in any format can be obtained from the
author.
Reproduction
of this work without permission, except for scholarly & nonprofit purposes,
is
liable to a payment of 10, 000 ren men bi or US$ 1,500.
[] please check out my blogs @:
[] also link up on:
_______________________________________________________
ALEVLER DEN BIR KUTLAMA
Turkish translation by © İlyas Tunç
Dokunmayın
Kutsallığına
yurdumun
Bir
molotov fırlattığınızda
Paramparça
acılar arasından:
Ülkemin her yerinde
Çocuklar, kaldırın ortadan annelerinizi
Dümdüz edin evlerini onların
Alevlerden bir kutlamada,
Yaşamın yanmış lastik kokularında
Şenlik ateşleri yakın küllerden
Çığlıklar atarak sevinçle,
Sonra
Yüzsüz, isimsiz
Gömün kendinizi
Varsa hâlâ utanç deriniz.
Ve siz,
Özgürlüğün kabile tüylerini övünerek gösteren
Ve siz, dindarlığın mor cüppeleri
Ya da tumturaklı sözlerin altın urbaları içinde
Sarığını giyen,
Açıklamalar yapın yarım yamalak
Yanan gövdelerle yalazlanan tespihler üzerinde
Hesaplayarak
Kendi aramızdaki
Ölüleri ve yaralıları.
Nasıl kırıldı
Direncimiz?
Hangi
çılgınlık
Sürüklüyor
halkımı şimdi
Özgürlüğün
Alevlerinden
Yazgının
cesetlerine
Acıdan kıvrana
kıvrana
Son bir kez
Vedalaşma
Dansında.
Yıkıntılar
görüyorum dört bir yanımda
Ülkemin
yıkıntıları
Yıkıntıları
halkın
Çamurlu su
aygırı konvoyları
Yürüyor kan
bulaşmış sokaklarında
Başka bir
keşmekeşin
Kurşunlayarak
masum soyları:
Neşeli
oyunlarında sakatlanmış çocuklar
Doğum
anlarında vurulmuş anneler
Yaşamlarının
çılgınlığıyla yankılanan
Issız bir
vadiye sürüklenmiş bakire kızlar
Ve siz,
kardeşim,
Kıpırdamayın
çürümüş mezarınızda
Yatın
tetikte ve bakın
Nasıl
inkar ediyorlar zincire bağlanmış
Çıplak
ruhunu senin.
Çünkü Azanya alevler içinde yükseliyor
yeniden
Hatta
hatırlamıyorlar arkadaşların
Onun
sıtmalı düşlerini
Ve siz,
toprağın oğlu
Kafa
yormayın uzun süre
Bırakın
tanrılar korusun sizi orada
Nice
acılardan oluşan cennetinizde.
Çünkü,
çok az kişi hatırlar
Tarih
kitaplarının unuttuğu
Hummalı
bir isyanın
Yakıcı
anılarını.
Ve siz,
yoldaşım benim,
Volta
atmayın durmadan
Çünkü,
senin adına onlar yaparlar bir çok şeyi
Taşırlar
parlak afişler üzerinde seni
Öyleyse,
dolaşabilirsin kafesinde can çekişerek,
İzleyebilirsin
bir ülkenin
Umutsuzluk
cürüfuna dönüşünü
Devrim
marşıyla.
Turkish translation by kind
permission of © İlyas Tunç
_______________________________________________________
EEN FEEST VAN VLAMMEN
Dutch translation © Irene Scheltes
Schend niet
De heiligheid van mijn huis
Als je een molotov gooit
Door de verbrijzelde pijn;
In het hele land
Kinderen, zet je
moeders buiten de deur
Breek hun
huizen af
In een
feest van vlammen
En
autobanden met de scherpe stank van leven
Leg een
vreugdevuur aan van as
Jammerend van
verrukking,
En dan
Zonder naam of
gezicht
Begraaf jezelf,
Als schaamte je
huid nog kan doordringen
En jij,
Pronkend met de
stamveren der vrijheid
En jij, die de
kroon aanvaardt,
In purperen
gewaden van vroomheid
Of gouden gewaden
van retoriek,
Leg
gladde verklaringen af
Maak de
balans op
Van doden en
verminkten
Onder de onzen
In rozenperken
die vlammen van brandend vlees
Waar zijn we toe
Verlaagd?
Welke waanzin
Drijft mijn volk nu
Van de vuren
Der bevrijding
Naar de dodelijke ondergang
Kronkelend
In de dans
Van een definitief
Afscheid.
Overal rondom mij zie ik verwoesting.
De verwoesting van land
De verwoesting van mensen
Stoffige
konvooien patrouilleren
In de
bloedbesmeurde straten
Van een nieuwe
jungle
Schietend op
onschuldig bloed;
Kinderen
verwrongen in vrolijk spel
Moeders
neergeschoten bij het baren
Maagden naar een
eenzame vlakte gedreven
Waar de waanzin
van hun levens weerklinkt
En jij, mijn broeder,
Verroer je niet in je verrotte graf
Blijf wakker en vraag je af
Hoe ze je naakte schim negeren
Gebonden aan een keten
Want Azania staat weer in
lichterlaaie
En zelfs je vrienden herinneren zich
niet
De zielenpijn van haar dromen
En jij, zoon van de bodem,
Pieker niet te lang
Laat de goden je daar behoeden
In de hemel van zoveel smarten
Want zo weinig mensen
Dragen de toorts der herinnering
Aan een koortsachtige opstand
In geschiedenisboeken vergeten
En jij, mijn kameraad,
Loop niet te veel op en neer
Want ze doen vele dingen in jouw naam
Dragen je mee op blinkende banieren
Zodat jij gejaagd kunt dwalen in je
kooi
En toezien hoe een land in vlammen
opgaat
Tot sintels
van wanhoop
In het lied van de revolutie
Dutch translation by kind permission of © Irene Scheltes
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
the NOVEL Sadness In The
House Of Love by Farouk Asvat
is now available on amazon: in paperback @ $15 & kindle @ only $5
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
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#flames
