Tag Archives: Emmanuel Jakpa

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The Taylor Trust: Summer Issue – July to September

http://www.mp3.com/artist/drew-bennet/songs/TTT SUMMER COVERS copy

VIEW THE LATEST ONLINE ISSUE BY CLICKING ON

http://issuu.com/the-taylor-trust/docs/ttt_summer_2009_vol_3a

(See a poem from this issue below.)

REMEMBERING MÁTRANOVÁK

(Mátranováki emlek) by János Szentmártoni,
translated from the Hungarian by Paul Sohar

Visiting relatives. Mountains. Ducks. Picnic fires.
Childhood. Air you can bite. Dreams.
Aunt Anna’s breakfast: bread and butter, salami, milk.
Uncle Karcsi a striking figure
~ after dinner he makes the violin sing.
Summer. Well water.
Palko gives me a ride on a tractor up into the mountains.
Wild boar tracks. The gleam of antlers. Wings.
The entrance hall is big enough
to accommodate a pig slaughter in winter.
There are two girls. One is too young yet.
The other is always around. Always pestering me.
A few years younger: an age gap not to be bridged.
I tease her. Make fun of her country dialect.
In the woodshed I whisper to her: I’ll be a writer.
Wide open, glistening pair of eyes.
Short summer dress. Dirty blond hair.
Jewelry-fine feet bathing in sunshine.
She rewards my secret with one of her own:
the village boys are jealous of me.
My indifferent shrug hurts.
To keep from crying she digs up a cassette player.
Dance. La Isla Bonita.
Dance. Dance under the afternoon sun.
Dance. She’s dancing. For me. For me alone.

On the train going home, and then for years to come,
I feel, yes: this is romance.
And I often ask her to dance.

by

Emmanuel Jakpa

DIASPORAimages-1

The ships that long time ago
carried through the Atlantic my children,
and the chains that dragged them
through the Sahara,
carried unaware my fertile seeds,
carried unaware my aim.

Today, gladly I see
my children citizens of all countries ~
members of all families of men.
Today, gladly I see
my children know all cultures,
languages and creeds.
Today, gladly my dream I see,
the dream I had envisaged
from the beginning ~
my secret.

Now I sing
I, the Iroko, the Nile, Kilimanjaro,
with plenteous grace I sing,
I have the identity of every race.
I am my own identity
~ Africa and the Diaspora maze.

~ Emmanuel Jakpa

ART AND HEART

We hold our words,
never to say I love … whoever.
We belt our desires
to the seat of amelioration,
smile, laugh, bite whenever
like the fingers of crabs.
So far it keeps our heart
in a safe place, does it matter?

Think we play hide and seek,
hide and seek, hide and seek,
art against hearts.
How we seek the ease of distance and time,
the ease of Zodiac and signs.
So far it keeps our heart
in a safe place, does it ever matter?

~Emmannuel Jakpa