Induce birth pangs in your people,

as in Ngubengcuka's time;

speak as of old in Hintsa's voice.

(The names of kings confuse me.)

Will all the years roll by?

Will you mark time through this year too?

Your family's left you; your stock have left you:

they're now the stock of the Mutton Gluttons.

Maqoma said so, and they called him mad

for spurning the madness of surrender.

In the light of day you sold your kingdom

and went in search of a wife.

Will all the years roll by?

Will you mark time through this year too?

Where is royalty? There's nothing of value:

all that we once had is gone.

The old voice said, “You're dying, Africa.”

The gainsayers countered: “How can she die?”

Now what can you say? “The country's at war.

Punishment's rampant. Africa's fallen.”

Ngqika himself broke away,

Christians, because of your bible.

I witnessed the fall of our kings, our foundations,

heard them groan as they shook their heads.

Will all the years roll by?

Will you mark time through this year too?

Please seek the source of your condition,

why you're so and why you starve.

Seek the seers to tell you straight

what the ancient of days divines.

Fear nothing, armed with the truth:

this cash led us astray.

Will all the years roll by?

Will you mark time through this year too?

Drought struck; the rivers dried up.

What do they say in the far northeast?

The old voice said, “You're dying, Africa.”

The gainsayers countered: “How can she die?”

Flames rise among cattle and people

and the word of God's caught in the coils.

Peace, Africa, mimosa of Africa,

tree that twisted in falling,

whatever your doubts, please come back today,

those glittering baubles aren't for you.

Maqoma said so, and they called him mad

for spurning the madness of surrender.

Come back this year, African moss.

That rising sun made me think of Shaka.

Peace! Awu!!