‘Letter to a Lost Ourea‘ was voted by members of the WSA-R community as Literary Work of the Week (July 8–14, 2024).
As my words finally find their way to you,
Perhaps too late,
I may have turned to ashes.
Just as a frozen heart would only melt
by the warm touch of the golden prince,
To read them, you’ll gently heat the paper,
And the warmth will reveal what’s written by
a heart, drunk with nostalgia.
So, whether your eyes will have visited Dreamland,
Or you’ve built a nest in the Soberland,
answer me this:
Can your heart that once beat on the crescendo of bird songs
Start to dance on the bells of the old temple?
You probably got tired of laughing at the sight of monkeys swinging on tree branches,
Or the “protector” mark on your forehead weighed down your shoulders, and you had to run and save yourself in the end.
But would you invade the house of mosquitoes and
smash them with hammers,
If all you want is to warn them from making noise?
Ibi kubivuga ni nko kurakarira igisekeramwanzi,
But monkeys die to the taste of bananas,
For they never tried another kind of sweets
And their love is that of the King’s Eunuch.
You may not want to spy on these letters and alphabets,
And I can’t tell you to find your way back home.
But at the very least, I want you to know that:
In the temple, you hold and blow the candles, but you can’t hug or wrestle the wind of the jungle.
Even so, if the wind does blow your soul just because it can,
resist not to fall.
For I, in return, will have become a parachute
To help you float safely to the ground.
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