n short story
writer
and journalist
.
He was born in Johannesburg
and worked for a time in Pretoria
as a teacher.
Motsisi worked for Drum magazine as a journalist until 1962 and then left to work for The World returning to Drum in 1974
He wrote the regular Bugs column which was humorous and satirical and featured discussions and conversations between two bed bugs.
Motsisi also wrote the On the Beat column.
His style borrowed heavily from that of Damon Runyon
featuring Americanese and Tsotsitaal
(local township
slang).
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong.
They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed — I, too, am America.
The night is beautiful,So are the faces of my people.
I've known rivers: I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I've known rivers: Ancient, dusky rivers. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
The stars went out and so did the moon.The singer stopped playing and went to bedWhile the Weary Blues echoed through his head.He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.
Way Down South in Dixie(Break the heart of me)They hung my black young loverTo a cross roads tree.
Love is a naked shadowOn a gnarled and naked tree.
While over Alabama earthThese words are gently spoken:Serve — and hate will die unborn.Love — and chains are broken.
Hold fast to dreamsFor if dreams dieLife is a broken-winged birdThat cannot fly.