The boy

They came to the village looking for him
because there was no other way
to get out and face the rivals.
It became a habit to see vultures
seeking their carrion in the outposts
ransacking passengers’ ayates
and rummaging through skirts, in search of flesh.

He left his marbles behind,
on the line with storm clouds of nostalgia,
he left the multicolored fish
with the dreams of the night
and left among the coffee plantations
the ropes on which misery swings.

In his bones began to grow
the cries of his friends, the girls of Marutsíí,
who asked an ear of the dust and the stones
so they wouldn’t take him away.

They hooded him with scales of the afternoon
and they hung an AK-47 on his shoulder
and three deer-eye rosaries round his neck
and he set about hunting men
inviting death to his table.

Since then
they say that we, the people of the Mountain,
are good at that
and they keep coming to take our young boys away
and sow death in their hands.

Adà

Nìguwá gí’yáà ènè xàbò tsí jùdá ajwàn’ ná xuajñùún
numuu rí nìgi’duu xkujndu
khamí nangwá ì’gúùn mùtsañuú gajmíí i’wìí xàbò,
tsetse ma’ nàwi’ñuú dxá’án tsú’kwè,
ikhiin tsí nà’phò xuwi ná ndawaá xuajñàn ló’,
ikhiin tsí nùrigú amaà’ ná ajwàn’ xkàradi,
ikhiin tsí nùkuxè jnàwùún khamí nònè ngínií ijíín gò’ò ná júbàá.

Xó ma’ ikhaa nìnìñuu xndú tsígun’ ná awùún rómbò
ná ikhoo idi rí jàgù tsíngína,
khamí nìnìñuu ìgì’ tsí mixtìín ná awùún xnú’ndoo mbro’on,
khamí nìnìñuú ná awùún ixè kafé
tsímbi ná nàxtráka mìnà’ rí tsíngína ló’.

Xó ma’ ná awùún ìtsuu nì’kà ràgajàà iya idùún
ijíín gò’ò Marutsíí tsí nimbáxuún gàjmìí, ijíín gò’ò tsú’kwè nìndxá’wè ná nìtuxuù yujndà’ khamí ìtsí,
rí màxá’gá jí’yáà gònè xàbò.

Xàbò tsí judà ajwàn’ nìxùdaa xtá inuu,
khamí nìstrákèè mbá xkamídá rí mbijwà ná xpaphòò,
atsú tsákuun iduu àñà’ ná ñawúùn,
ikànjgó ikhaa nìgí’dúù nìgudiín xàbò
mí ni’gií rí tsíngína inuu ixè xaphoo xuajñúùn.

Numuu mbi’i rú’kwè, nakhi rí nìgàji’yaà
nuthèèn rí tsàá xàbò júbà ñajwàn xò’,
maján ènè xò’ ñajun rú’kwè mé’
numuu rú’kwè tsetse nàguwá xàbò
tsí nagòó ju’diín ijíín xuajen.
khamí nudii ga’khò ná ñawùún èjèn tsú’kwè.

Hubert Matiúwàa (trans.. Juana Adcock)