Каталог товаров
Каталог товаров
And in that cough, Mofokeng heard something. Not a melody. A rhythm. The rhythm of his mother’s grinding stone. The rhythm of his own feet walking to the mines. The rhythm of a coffin lowered into red soil.
"Pula tsa lehlohonolo, Ha li na ka melupe. Hohle e le liphororo, Le 'na hle u nkhopole." (Showers of blessing fall steadily. They are like waterfalls everywhere; please, remember me too.) sotho hymn 63
Even if the earth shakes, And the clouds of heaven; You are my rock, Where I stand on the hills. And in that cough, Mofokeng heard something
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