Louis Esterhuizen. Mongane Wally Serote vereer met “Golden Wreath”
Thursday, August 16th, 2012
Volgens ‘n berig by The New Age het ‘n besonderse eer een van Suid-Afrika se vernaamste Engelstalige digters te beurt geval deurdat die organiseerders van die Struga Poësiefees in Macedonië besluit het om Wally Serote vir sy digkuns te vereer met vanjaar se Golden Wreath. Dit is slegs die tweede keer dat op dié besonderse manier hulde gebring word aan ‘n digter uit Afrika; vantevore is die Senegalse digter, Leopold Sedar Senghor, op soortgelyke manier vereer. Ander bekende digters wat eweneens dié verering te beurt geval het, is onder andere Pablo Neruda (1972), Ted Hughes (1994) en Seamus Heaney (2001).
Vanjaar se Struga Poësie-aande vind plaas van 23 tot 26 Augustus in Struga. Die oorhandiging sal tydens dié poësiefees, wat wêreldwyd as een van die belangrikstes gereken word, gedoen word. (Vantevore het ek ook oor dié besonderse fees geskryf. Gaan kyk hier indien jy dit gemis het.)
Serote, wat in die bekende Sophiatown gebore is, het deur sy skryfwerk en sosiale betrokkenheid aansien verwerf onder ‘n breë en waarderende gehoor. Sy debuutbundel, Yakhal’inkomo is in 1972 bekroon met die Ingrid Jonker-poësieprys van daardie jaar.
Op Poetry International Web kan ‘n goeie oorsig oor Serote se digwerk gevind word. Ook is daar ‘n aantal vroeë gedigte wat geniet kan word … Vir jou leesplesier plaas ek egter ‘n gedig wat op Poetry Africa se webtuiste beskikbaar is.
***
History – a home address
i
i will ask my beloved-
where
where must we reside in the early hours
in the purr and roar and chime
of the break of time
when the horizons yawns and is golden and mauve
when the breeze simmers
when the spin of the earth sails the season into place
and when the blade of the wind and the breeze make us dream
we know our address
as the rain drizzle makes us stare the distances
Africa
here we are
we who people you
in the shades which from blue to black to ginger to honey
dance with the light of sun and the shades of the moon
and stars
or in the pitch dark of night
in all seasons
out in your vast space
under your clear and blue skies which hover and watch
inside time which we carried and waded through
generation after generation after generation
we emerged without fail
like the day like night like seasons like time
are tempered and were tempered
in the long long moments of struggle
six centuries sixty decades of being doormats
these six hundred years of Africa fighting
should and must and shall open doors
crack as they do and dropping rust as if scraps
they shall beam the moonlight and the starlight and the sunlight
as we offer us to share rewards of the struggle
and offer to be part of the human race
so all of us
black and white can be a gift of life
© Mongane Wally Serote (2009)
