Everything Here
Sampa The Great has tears, true tears, when the audience flows with her as a whole body. For myself, I felt touched by the courage of an outstanding presence, out of shyness.
Africa in its potential and realities is me, it's us. It’s a reckoning with ourselves. It’s a becoming. Movement and stillness. Where past, present, and future bleed into each other.
All of this has gotten me thinking not only about language and its intricacies but about existing translated poetic work, from English to other languages, and vice versa. What makes a good translation?
