KWAZULU

A quiet encampment,
Ulundi hills,
Where lions temper evening moves.
Zulu rest toward coming dawn,
In wait of warming light,
To hunt, as men.

Tribal ways come undone,
Time ravaged then passed,
In hunger's swollen wake.
Young boys unmade alive,
Who pray for prey,
To fight, as men.

Shaka's day came then went,
Advancing industry,
Exchanging liberty.
Unrest, these left and,
Once again,
` To live, as men.