Kifungoni In Prison (Kifungoni)

Kifungoni

Kwa kuangulia juu mbinguni
na kulia sana kwa matumaini
samawati imeingia
                              mwangu machoni.
Kwa kuota mahindi mashambani
na kulia sana kwa mahuzuni
manjano imeingia
                              mwangu machoni.
 
Waache majemadari waende vitani
Wapenzi waende bustanini
Na waalimu mwao darasani,
            Ama mimi, tasubihi nipeni
            Na kiti cha kale, za zamani
            Niwe vivi nilivyo duniani:
                        bawabu mlangoni
                        katika kingo ya maumivu ya ndani
            maadamu vitabu, sheria na zote dini
zitanihakikishia mauti
                                    nikiwa na njaa au kifungoni.
 

In Prison (Kifungoni)

From looking up at the sky
and crying from so much longing
sky-blue has seeped 
                                 into my eyes.
From growing maize in the fields
and crying so much from sadness
yellow has seeped
                              into my eyes.
 
Let soldiers go to war
lovers go to the garden
and teachers to the classroom,
      As for me, give me prayer beads
      and an old chair from the past
      So in this world I would be:
            a gatekeeper
            at the door of inner pain
      while books, laws and all religions
guarantee me death
                                 starving or in prison
 

We’ve translated two poems by Alamin Mazrui which, in English, have the title ‘In Prison’ even though, in Swahili, they have different titles, ‘Kifungoni’ (this poem) and ‘Kizuizini’ (the other). However, both words are best translated as ‘In Prison’, so we’ve decided to leave them and to distinguish between them by appending the Swahili title to the version in English.

We’ve all enjoyed translating Alamin Mazrui’s complex, deeply thoughtful poems. He engages with directly political issues in a suggestive and indirect way that few other poets ever attempt, avoiding polemic or shutting down the poem’s options. His poems speak to the subjective experience of political and moral conflict with great delicacy and tact.

In Prison

From looking up into the sky
and crying a lot because of hopes
the sky-blue has entered/gone
                                    into my eyes.
 
From growing corn in the fields
and crying a lot because of sadness
the yellow has entered/gone
                                    into my eyes.
 
Leave officers go to the wars
Lovers to go to the gardens
And teachers to their classrooms,
            Or me, give me prayer beads
            And an old chair, of the past
            So that I would be like this in the world:
                        a doorkeeper
                        at the gate of inner pain
            while books, laws and all the religions
guarantee me death
                               if I am hungry or in prison.
 

Original Poem by

Alamin Mazrui

Translated by

Katriina Ranne with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Swahili

Country

Kenya