Paris Thulare

Le satlo kwišwa bohloko, la gegewa
Le satlo tshepišwa mehlolo, la wela
Le sa tlo bona dikgolo
Dibotse di tlo feta
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What if the heaven we are told about doesn't exist,
What if it's a place we see only in our dreams.
Who has ever went there and came back?
Who has ever seen hell with his naked eyes?
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No one remembers you
No one is here for you
No body will ever cry for you
No one is so keen to nourish you
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I am the reflection ofmy own shadow
The one behind the existence of barrows
Because i have been given this life
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To thee pains irreparable,
To thee lost stillborn,
To thee poor searching,
To you out there, the souls suffering
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I didn't know you were capable of pulling such a miracle,
I was Depressant then,
With tears looting my face
I was a runner in my life,
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Bona o ithlobogile boka mpša ya tswetši,
Bona o ikgonere,
nne le tshela go wena di ya swana.
Orile o sale yo monanana, waephethola komang-kanna,
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O a phadima wa ipona?
O yo monanana o hloka mabadi,
O bjalo ka Mphatlalatšane o a nkgahla.
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Ge o be ofela ore 'tsoga bosele',
Ke be inaganela gore onthloba-boroko,
Ga obe ore 'makhura a ngwana ke go rongwa',
Kebe kere gao nkganyogele tše bonolo.
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I used to sing sweet tunes unto you my dear,
I used to blaze my very best lines,
With joy favouring our bolded hearts,
And yet the dark cloud fell unexpectly.
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You have been my enjambment,
The who i used to call tangent.
Your looks connived,
And i was conviced.
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So much years in the frontier
And still breathing,
This place is the awesome of the world,
Even the land wanted me dead
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DENIAL
There is you, becoming a berg wind of what you see,
Yet the heart keeps skipping beats, whilst memories are are haunting.
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Embarking on a spiritual path is fomenting I know
Sometimes you are told horror tales
And oh! Your mind creates barriers
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Dear God, I'm here in a world colliding,
love has abandoned the poor soul in me,
So is Momma who left me hanging in basket, Down marone street.
I never met Dad,
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The sunshines are throbing from the fresh breeze of morning spheres,
Deep from mesh and flei of smashy Drankenberg mountainous slopes.

Look down there! when I'm here at the heart of a place called home, with greetings by the corigated inventions of my fore ones.
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I've spend most of my life afraid And unsure
I've seen things and I've endured too much pain
That which made me realized I'm the one who got only myself
Seeing those smiles in me being taken away by the people I cared so much for,
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That winter evening,
The story non-ending was embarking.
My heart was rusty and thirsty
With Wishes blurring my mind.
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I was told one day that you would fade before the eyes of me,
But I was younger.

I was told I would be old as the sun
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Dear Lord
We are your children living in fear,
We are safficating, poked by thoughts about who we might become tomorrow
Coarpeses or spicies, its you who know.
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