Zola, gazelle of the bush-veldt, running alone,
Wings upon your heels, sunlight in your soul,
Holding hands with the wind & proud of your home,
Speed in your legs, running makes you whole.
Ignore the ignorant & smile at the pain,
The world is just yours when you start to run,
Your tears dry in the sun & mingle with the rain,
You´re as warm as your dear South African sun.
Bush-veldt scrub within your African mind,
The mighty lion to you would bow,
Recall the people you´ve left behind,
Zola run for them, run for now.
You race through cities of this strange world,
Through jeering crowds & jarring words,
Through angry chants & stones so hurled,
But you run to the springbok that you see in herds.
“Zola, Zola,
meisie van die bos-veldt”, you hear
Echoes of the wind across Karoo dreams,
On the track they see not your fear,
They hear not the jackal as she laughs & screams.
They´ve used & abused your happy feet,
A laughing happy child they´ve pushed aside,
Zola there´s one thing they´ll never beat,
And that´s your soul, the being you carry inside.
Run over tracks towards the sun,
Laugh over mankind, but do it for you,
Only for you can you run, run, run,
Over burning sun & morning dew.
Run klein bokkie, across this universe wild,
Towards the mielie fields & jacaranda tree,
Marula dreams are yours my child,
And you´ll always have a friend in me.
No comments:
Post a Comment