Pat Craddock
By night the flood
Ivory in allegiance
Watching her moon mother
Heard her misty voice
With smiling lips sing
Beetle bells, I come, I runDid village lovers hear the cry?
A bird in the water
Large leaves aloose
As priestly crocodile knifed
Swiftly sweetness fleshIt could have been a fire that destroyed the people
Beetle bells the water sang
Only the houses knew and dropped their walls in deep submission
Hearing the dark river
Demanding an appalling hymn.
O, Mozambique, O, Mozambique
© 2001 Patrick Craddock