poem; chaste and pride
Poem, Octavia Nkosi, South Africa
Chaste and Time
Thou art stainless,
Oy yes the stainless steel,
The diamond of the blue sea,
Thou art virtuous had it not been of beehive robbers,
You would have remained spotless, is it?
Your glow and pride would be noticed from afar
Thou art in the village tongue,
the praises you,
The chiefs, the councilors, and the King brag of you,
Young women learnt of you in traditional circle,
Young women got you from birth
Schooling and religious upbringing brought your spark,
Oh chaste I wish you could remain that way,
untarnished by world ruthlessness,
what good does it bring for men to tear you in your nascent,
only to leave and mock about you.
Chaste the chaser,
chastisise the treasurer hunter, and
let him weary of chasing after you some time,
If they come clean it last not,
If they marry you,
you become the second or the third in a row, shame,
then you are called, little wife.
the reinvigorate of men but not the builder of the household.
I wish I could you my child, chaste!
Hide you in the belly of the earth,
Sing a song of lullaby always,
Just to keep asleep,
Worst that you grow and hear of life outside the village, the city life
Then without ado you hasten to go there and explore,
Oh my dear child, listen to me,
I don’t mean hate towns and cities
Be careful is what I am asking of you,
I don’t mean run away from wondering men,
Be careful of their intents and learn their ways.
Please chaste I beg of you follows the ways of wisdom,
Let God be your rod, all the time.
Thank you chaste,
I want to keep you but time has come
To let you go, though I weep that you remain a perpetual minor,
time has come.
Oh, the envious moon keeps you from seeing the crack of dawn,
Growing is inevitable; grow in virtue, light and wisdom my loved one.
Thank you, chaste.