Anjie Krog traveled from Cape Town to Dakar, to Goree Island, then on to Kaolock, Kita, Segou, Mopti and finally she reached Timbuktu. Her journey is described in
A Change of Tongue. The poems come tumbling from the poets' lips and hips. They dance and speak in tongues, african style. One says:
we are the carpenters of memory
we plane words
we are the masters - not of creation
but of the transmission of the soul
to see the word pass in the foyer of language
with breath in its ribs
Another:
words create
other light
we work with light
Antjie:
my ears feather from peace and heat
not of being
but of becoming
many becomings
past lost and drifting spaces
many many becomings
Yet another poet speaks:
I write because I have learned to read sand and water
shadows clouds and the flight of birds
I write to catch myself on the edge of the world
to get my breath pause behold listen
I write because it is my way of being free
