Oh, how I groan and languish,
Bound in desire,
Haunted by the fruits of imagination.
How I wish I could command the hands of time—
To bid days turn back into nights,
And let the sun rise again upon mornings long past.O keeper of time,
Could you not let thy clock run in reverse?
How I miss the fragile days of infancy,
When I was the only jewel in my mother’s sight.
O swift thief called youth,
You robbed me of her love,
You pulled me from her gentle feet,
You tore me from the warmth of her tender breast.
Cruel, cruel growth!
You cast me into adulthood,
Planting my weary steps upon the thorny soil of adolescence.
Now I long to find the pathway back—
To my mother’s lap,
To moments where words were not needed,
Where sleep would overtake me at her feet.
O, how I wish!
If only my tears could flood me backward,
Back to the days long vanished—
When hunger was a stranger to my body,
Distress unknown to my soul,
And want but a rumor drifting past my ears.
Oh, how I groan and languish in desire.
O fruit of longing,
O sorrow of time,
How I wish!
By Tatenda Obrey Mukukuwanda
(The Honourable Child Minister of Defence, Peace and National Security,
Deputy Chief President of Royal Studio Africa International)
