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Okot p'Bitek The Song of Lawino excerpts «He says Black people are primitive And their ways are utterly harmful Their dances are mortal sins They are ignorant, poor and diseased! ...» […] «Listen Ocol, my old friend, The ways of your ancestors Are good, Their customs are solid And not hollow They are not thin, not easily breakable They cannot be blown away By the winds Because their roots reach deep into the soil. I do not understand The ways of foreigners But I do not despise their customs. Why should you despise yours?» (SOL, P.41). […] «Ocol is no longer in love with; The old type; He is in love with a modern girl; The name of the beautiful one; Is Clementine; Brother, when you see Clementine! The beautiful one aspires; To look like a white woman; Her lips are red-hot; Like glowing charcoal; She resembles the wild cat; That has dipped its mouth in blood; Her mouth is like raw yaws; Tina dusts powder on her face; And it looks so pale ;...» […] «The smell of carbolic soap; Makes me sick; And the smell of powder; Provokes the ghosts in my head; It is then necessary to fetch a goat; From my mother's brother; The sacrifice over; The ghost -dance drum must sound; The ghost be laid; And my peace restored.» […] «Forgive me, broth Do not think I am insulting The woman with whom I share My husband! Do not think my tongue Is being sharpened by jealousy. It is the sight of Tina That provokes sympathy from my heart.» Then the truth comes out: «I do not deny I am a little jealous It is no good lying, We all suffer from a little jealousy. It catches you unawares Like the ghosts that bring fevers; It surprises people Like earth tremors: But when you see the beautiful woman With whom I share my husband You feel a little pity for her.» […] «I cannot dance the rumba, My mother taught me The beautiful dances of Acoli. I do not know the dances of white people. I will no deceive you, I cannot dance the samba, You once saw me at the Orak dance The dance for youths The dance of our people» […] «When the drums are throbbing And the black youths Have raised much dust You dance with vigour and health You dance naughtily with pride You dance with Spirit, You compete, you insult, you provoke You challenge all», […] I am proud of the hair With which I was born And as no white woman Wishes to do her hair Like mine, Because she is proud Of the hair with which she was born.» […] «No leopard Would change into a hyena, And the crested crane Would hate to be changed Into the bold-headed, Dung-eating vulture, The long-necked and graceful giraffe Cannot become a monkey. Let no one Uproot the pumkin.» […] He never jokes With anybody He says He has no time To sit around the evening fire.» […] «In the wisdom of the Acoli Time is not stupidly split up Into seconds and minutes It does not flow Like beer in a pot That is sucked Until it is finished.»

The Song of Lawino

excerpts

«He says Black people are primitive
And their ways are utterly harmful
Their dances are mortal sins
They are ignorant, poor and diseased! ...»
[…]

«Listen Ocol, my old friend,
The ways of your ancestors
Are good,
Their customs are solid
And not hollow
They are not thin, not easily breakable
They cannot be blown away
By the winds
Because their roots reach deep into the soil.
I do not understand
The ways of foreigners
But I do not despise their customs.
Why should you despise yours?» (SOL, P.41).
[…]

«Ocol is no longer in love with;
The old type;
He is in love with a modern girl;
The name of the beautiful one;
Is Clementine;
Brother, when you see Clementine!
The beautiful one aspires;
To look like a white woman;
Her lips are red-hot;
Like glowing charcoal;
She resembles the wild cat;
That has dipped its mouth in blood;
Her mouth is like raw yaws;
Tina dusts powder on her face;
And it looks so pale ;...»
[…]

«The smell of carbolic soap;
Makes me sick;
And the smell of powder;
Provokes the ghosts in my head;
It is then necessary to fetch a goat;
From my mother's brother;
The sacrifice over;
The ghost -dance drum must sound;
The ghost be laid;
And my peace restored.»
[…]

«Forgive me, broth
Do not think I am insulting
The woman with whom I share
My husband!
Do not think my tongue
Is being sharpened by jealousy.
It is the sight of Tina
That provokes sympathy from
my heart.»
Then the truth comes out:
«I do not deny
I am a little jealous
It is no good lying,
We all suffer from a little jealousy.
It catches you unawares
Like the ghosts that bring fevers;
It surprises people
Like earth tremors:
But when you see the beautiful woman
With whom I share my husband
You feel a little pity for her.»
[…]

«I cannot dance the rumba,
My mother taught me
The beautiful dances of Acoli.
I do not know the dances of white people.
I will no deceive you,
I cannot dance the samba,
You once saw me at the Orak dance
The dance for youths
The dance of our people»
[…]

«When the drums are throbbing
And the black youths
Have raised much dust
You dance with vigour and health
You dance naughtily with pride
You dance with Spirit,
You compete, you insult, you provoke
You challenge all»,
[…]

I am proud of the hair
With which I was born
And as no white woman
Wishes to do her hair
Like mine,
Because she is proud
Of the hair with which she was born.»
[…]

«No leopard
Would change into a hyena,
And the crested crane
Would hate to be changed
Into the bold-headed,
Dung-eating vulture,
The long-necked and graceful giraffe
Cannot become a monkey.
Let no one
Uproot the pumkin.»
[…]

He never jokes
With anybody
He says
He has no time
To sit around the evening fire.»
[…]

«In the wisdom of the Acoli
Time is not stupidly split up
Into seconds and minutes
It does not flow
Like beer in a pot
That is sucked
Until it is finished.»