Her curves; the hills, mountains and bending roads,
Her beauty; ever green, fruitful and smiling up to the heavens,
Her guardian; the ever blazing sun radiating its heat and light onto her chocolate brown skin,
Her soily womb; thick and fertile giving birth to nutritious fruits and veggies,
Fruits as delicious as those from Tshakhuma tshaha Madzivhandila,
Ndi Vendalahatshikamuroho lisa ladzi nwana nga ndala.
Her aura so pure and welcoming,
Her scent so clean and unpolluted,
The wind blowing out melodious tunes,
Hu pfala mifhululu na nanga dza tshikona dza Ha-Tshivhasa midi ya vhathu.
Ndi Vendalahatshikamuroho lo tondwaho nga Mwali;
Her body fluids blessed with healing properties;
Ndi madzivha a Fundudzi,
Her arms stretching out, reaching out to welcome her lost sons like the branches of Her Baobab Trees,
Her vagina sacred and rich in history sa bako la Tshavhadinda la Dzimauli ha Rammbuda Tshiwangamatembele lisa dzheniwi nga nnyi na nnyi,
Her breasts standing upright and firm even after daily breast feeding sa thavha ya Tswime.
*To be continued…
Its heritage month so I dedicate this month to Venda, my home. She is poetry on her own, no words can begin to describe her beauty; I love Vendalahatshikamuroho.
Vendalahatshikamuroho and Her Curves by Tshauambea Elizabeth Ndou