TRANSLATED FROM EWE BY PATRON HENEKOU AND MAWULI ADJEI

Ghananya¹

Hmmm Ghananya!
Ghananya is a marshland
and a clayey morass.
It is slippery.
Ghananya is as slippery as
okro soup poured on mirror.
Ghananya is so slippery that
antelope, stag, deer
impala, jaguar, civet cat, leopard
and many other four-footed animals
survey the sky with keen eyes,
probe deeper still into the crust of earth
before they leap in the air
and land onto Ghananya.

Ghananya is so so slippery
even catfish have
to tug at each other’s tails
to be able to move ahead.

I say Ghananya is a marshland.
It is so slippery that
the tongue that speaks it
must be a creative tongue. 

Therefore, if any child for want of care
pokes his long-pointed mouth
into Ghananya with reckless glee,
if all his affairs do not
appear in dribs and drabs,
some will turn down side up,
some others will surely be a total mish-mash slime.

Ghananya is just like
wetland that dawn, noon
and sundown drizzles
have baptized.
Mesmerizing swathes of lush
glistening gleaming
dreamy greenery,
but woe betide the infant who knows not the mysteries of the hunters’ world,
who tiptoes gingerly-gingerly-gingerly,
chest held high, balancing on one leg
then plunges with a thunderous splash in Ghananya
he would tumble roll somersault till he lands in Underworld.

I say, it was the Crab who said
he’s endowed with eight legs
and two mighty claws for good measure
but when he encounters Ghananya
roller-coasting like a boulder downhill
along the far-flung fringes would he tread cautiously!

Ei! GHANANYA.

***

Mother

Mother,
it was the elders who said that
it is at the door of memories
that we meet the souvenirs of the past.
And there are souvenirs
certainly greater than others.
It’s only a fortnight, 

I can remember,
that Mother sat me down on her lap
overwhelmed with happiness
beaming from my face
and her smile was full to the brim
with yet-to-bloom flower buds
I drove myself into concentration for a while
and dived into indescribable mirth.
I tickled Mother under her armpit to
make her flowers of joy bloom just as well
like butterflies.
So that her eyes can shine like rainbow.

In fact, there are souvenirs certainly greater among others.
Here I am, my very self
have become a mere dreamer
my eyes are now opened
on the changing fortunes of this life.
Now I clearly understand
I know what happened
before all of Mother’s dreams
shrank into stumps
burnt into ashes by bush fires.

The pot in which Mother cooked her joys
fell on hard rock
and scattered into the sand.
That is why she keeps on searching
for her childhood memories
in the new budding flowers of her laughter.
Indeed, indeed, indeed
there are souvenirs certainly greater than others.

______________________________________________

1. Literally means Ghana palaver

Also, read Message by Subarna Mondal, translated from the Bengali by Aritrik Dutta Chowdhury, and published by The Antonym.

Message — Subarna Mondal

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