I,else
I
in a different way,I am someone else
Ka tsela e fapaneng ,ke motho mong
In another manner entirely,
Ka mokgwa o mong,
I tread the winding dust.
At the origin, at the dawn of the root,
Semolehong:
What else rests along that path—
what could you have done,
had you truly lived it?
To walk differently is to carry two shadows.
Ke motho o mong ka tsela e fapaneng,
a creature shaped by another way,
ka mokgwa o mong.
Otherwise, on another road, or not so—
ka tsela e nngwe ho seng jwalo—
we become other than our given names,
ntle le ho fapana le the expected mold.
We move dissimilarly, in an unalike manner,
ka mokgwa o sa tswaneng,
scattered variously across the valleys,
ka ditsela tse fapaneng,
blooming diversely in a thousand colors,
ka mefuta-futa.
Yet the echo calls back:
Likewise, in the same way, I too, or he as well—
ka tsela e tswanang, le nna, yena jwalo.
Similarly, bound by the same ancient geometry,
ka tsela e tswanang,
we try to hold the balance
between what is singular
and what is shared.
I.Else.
Like an addition, another, a different thing—
joalo ka eketsehileng, o mong, se seng—
causing an increase in quantity, or a rise in number,
e bakang keketseho ea bongata kapa palo.
At the source, in the beginning,
semolehong
Na ho na le se seng hape seo u ka ratang ho se eketsa lethathamong la hao?
We search for more—
hape, hape ho feta—
stretching further, to go forward and multiply,
ho tsoela pele o eketsa,
reaching farther, very far ahead into the horizon,
hole haholo ho ea pele.
We gather the additional, the other added ones,
tse ekelitsoeng tse ling,
seeking another, one more, a different piece,
e mong, e nngwe, se seng,
reaching for the other, the companion,
e mong, tse ding,
laying down what is added,
e ekelitsoeng,
and breathing in what is fresh and new,
e ntjha.
We walk along the side, on the edge,
sa ka thoko,
dwelling in the peripheral, at the boundary outside,
sa meeling sa kantle.
We keep what is extra, held to the side,
e eketsehileng e ka thoko,
and discard the extraneous, the unneeded from without,
sa sa hlokahaleng sa ka ntle.
We wear the accessory, the supplement,
sa tlatsetso,
and measure the excess, the overflow left behind,
e feteletseng e setseng.
It moves as collateral, walking beside the heart,
se tsamaelang le sona,
a plus, expanding and adding,
le bo eketsa,
an adjunct, strengthening from the margins,
se matlafatsang sa tlatsetso,
a supplemental whisper,
sa tlatsetso,
a rich surplus, abundance remaining,
e feteletseng e setseng,
a new day,
e ntjha,
and a spare key, carried for survival,
e eketsehileng e phephetseng.
All things become complementary, completing and assisting,
e phethelisang e tlatsetsang,
even when supernumerary, exceeding the count,
e feteletseng ka palo,
or contributory, paying their quiet toll,
e tlatsetsang,
or supervenient, arriving unexpected in the aftermath,
e hlahang ka morao e eketsehang.
And yet, in the end,
we are reduced to less, to the lesser, down below—
ho fokolang ka tlase—
left with fewer, a small and dwindling number,
e nyane ka palo.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment