I Shall Leave.

When, out of exhaustion:
To set hurries the sun,
I will be on toes--
To respond to the call of time.

I shall leave;
With the little I'd have reaped,
On the golden stool of prominence.
I shall leave:
Behind the sacred palm,
My people have tended and irrigated;
With their little sweat and blood.

I will need no cry,
I will need no lambs for sacrifice,
NO!
When the song and rhythm of time go down;
My fragile bones will be aching.
I will dance no more...

Even when omwami calls,
That my hallowed sanctuary above is ready:
To dine and wine for eternity,
I will exhibit no lag,
Thence,
To unburden the burdened;
And settle the unsettled:
I shall leave.
(c) Pius Khisa.