When in joy doth us mourn
South Africa, where lies thy future?
Where flows thy stream?
Do thou haveth values or culture?
That thy wanderest be taken, be transported and trimmed.
South Africa, how I long for those days then
The days of fully informed teachers
And yet dedicated then
And their advent so was taken.
But now when teachers their teaching should be adopting
Upon their calling dictums admonition to proceed
And their focus their advent doth adepting
But No, thou command says no to the process.
When guardians out to their torchious fields labour
For their nestlings to acquire knowledge and value
When the nestlings their dictums so should harbour
And yet by virtue of habit all these are in vain.
When pupils stroll the streets
Thy culture adept fail and neglected to upload
Upon radical admonition stripped
Yet their little knowledge is applauded.
Silently in line the mentors and guardians’ law protection march
But I weep for thy image their spoils and thy destruction
In line their image march.