NYU Black Renaissance Noire Spring 2015 - Page 121

EMOYENI, PLACE OF THE WINDS Emoyeni, passing passing from the tongue of the Zulus comes this word Emoyeni place of the winds you come we will climb the body of the hill thru the bowing of the talking grass up the footpath where the spirits pass look, emoyeni passing rising by the crumbling rock and the fingerreeds I put my ear to the mouth of an old man Emoyeni passing passing, is what he told me Listen to the wind, my son see the coming of its children every nation leans down to bite the hill passing blowing emoyeni place of the winds 119 breathe it is time to make time it is my father singing it is my mother at the river it is the spear and the chain it is your time to swallow the hill breathe emoyeni passing passing behind the dust emoyeni passing passing behind the fear emoyeni going going I see the coming of the long green rain BLACK RENAISSANCE NOIRE come it is time to make the time I see with my skin and hear with my tongue emoyeni from the sky emoyeni the tongue of many years passing where the fingers from the earth rising stroke all the singers passing passing by the rumbling of the falling rock down the valleys of the congo leaping toward the body of the hill BRN-SPRING-2015.indb 119 3/29/15 11:42 AM