Izinkondlo: Zulu poems with English meaning

Umama ungumthombo ongomi, amanzi akhe apholisa umoya wami. Ekuseni uvuka kuqala kunelanga, ubasa umlilo, ulungisa ukudla. Izandla zakhe zibhala uthando ezintweni ezincane zansuku zonke: isinkwa esisikiwe, ihembe elihlanzekile, isandla esibekwa ebunzini lami uma ngigula. Uma ngikhathele, izwi lakhe liyangiphakamisa; uma ngiwile, ithemba lakhe liyangivusa. Mama, ngiyabonga ngothando lwakho; ngiyokubonga impilo yami yonke.

Mother is a spring that never dries; her water cools my spirit. In the morning she rises before the sun, lights the fire and makes the food. Her hands write love into the small things of every day: bread already sliced, a clean shirt, a hand on my forehead when I am sick. When I am tired her voice lifts me; when I fall her hope raises me. Mother, thank you for your love; I will thank you all my life.

Ekhaya yindawo lapho igama lami laziwa khona, lapho umnyango uvuleka ngingakangqongqozi. Intuthu yeziko iyangibiza ngisekude, iphunga lesinkwa sombila liyangamukela. Umkhulu uhlezi emthunzini wesihlahla, uxoxa izindaba zakudala, ogogo bahleka, abantwana bayadlala, izinkomo zibuya ngokuhlwa. Noma ngingahamba amazwe amaningi, ngilale ezindlini ezinkulu zamadolobha, inhliziyo yami iyohlala ekhaya, lapho izimpande zami zimila khona.

Home is the place where my name is known, where the door opens before I knock. The smoke of the hearth calls me while I am still far away; the smell of mealie bread welcomes me. Grandfather sits in the shade of a tree telling old stories; the grandmothers laugh, the children play, the cattle come back in the evening. Even if I travel to many countries and sleep in the big houses of the cities, my heart will stay at home, where my roots grow.

Izulu liyaduma ngaphesheya kwentaba, amafu amnyama ayahlangana njengezinkomo zibuya emadlelweni. Kuqala kwehla amaconsi ambalwa, bese izulu lina ngamandla. Umhlabathi owomile uyaphuza, izihlahla zigeza uthuli ezinweleni zazo, abantwana bagijima bememeza: "Nansi imvula! Nansi impilo!" Kusasa amasimu azoba luhlaza, nethemba lomlimi lizohluma kabusha.

Thunder rumbles beyond the mountain; dark clouds gather like cattle coming home from the pastures. First a few drops fall, then the rain pours down hard. The dry earth drinks, the trees wash the dust from their hair, and the children run shouting: "Here is the rain! Here is life!" Tomorrow the fields will be green, and the farmer's hope will sprout again.

Insimbi iyakhala ekuseni, sigijima ngezicathulo ezipholishiwe. Ebhodini kubhalwe izimfihlo zolwazi: izinombolo, amagama, umlando wezwe lethu. Uthisha usinika isibani, thina siphatha izincwadi zethu ngokuziqhenya. Noma umsebenzi unzima namuhla, kusasa uzoba yibhuloho esizowela ngalo siye empumelelweni. Imfundo ingumcebo ongebiwe; akekho ongayithatha kimi.

The bell rings in the morning; we run in polished shoes. On the board are written the secrets of knowledge: numbers, words, the history of our country. The teacher gives us a lamp, and we carry our books with pride. Even if the work is hard today, tomorrow it will be the bridge we cross to success. Education is a treasure that cannot be stolen; no one can take it from me.

Ngiyazazi izithakazelo zami, ngazifundiswa ngugogo eziko. Isigqi sengoma sisezinyaweni zami, ubuhlalu bubhala imilayezo entanyeni yami. Ulimi lwami lungumgodi wamagugu, izaga zalo zingamatshe ayigugu. Angeke ngilulahle ngoba sengihlala edolobheni; ngiyoluphatha njengesibani endleleni. Ngoba isihlahla esingenazimpande asimi uma kuvunguza umoya.

I know my clan praises; my grandmother taught them to me by the fire. The rhythm of the song is in my feet; beads write messages on my neck. My language is a mine of treasures, and its proverbs are precious stones. I will not throw it away because I now live in the city; I will carry it like a lamp on the road. For a tree without roots does not stand when the wind blows.

Ubusuku bungaba bude, kodwa ilanga liyaphuma njalo. Imbewu efihlwe emhlabathini iyazi ukuthi izohluma. Noma namuhla izandla zami zingenalutho, kusasa ziyophatha isivuno. Ngiyobambelela ethembeni, ngoba ithemba alibulali. Ngiyoqhubeka ngihamba, isinyathelo ngesinyathelo, ngize ngifike lapho amaphupho ami engilinde khona.

The night may be long, but the sun always rises. The seed hidden in the soil knows that it will sprout. Even if my hands are empty today, tomorrow they will carry the harvest. I will hold on to hope, because hope does not kill. I will keep walking, step by step, until I arrive where my dreams are waiting for me.