Ke nna morongwa wa kgale, isithunywa sakudala, die antieke boodskapper. Before the stars were born, I was already there, moving silently through the ages.

Ke nna ingelosi engapheliyo, wa go se fele, die tydlose engel. I stand beyond the turning of the tides, an eternal flicker in the void, the greatest architecture of all goodness that knows no beginning and no end.

Ke nna ubabalo olungaphezu kwemvelo, kgaugelo ya godimo ga tlhago, bonatuurlike genade. I flow unseen, the devoted pulse of a worshipper whose prayers are written in the marrow of time. Ke nna wa go hlomphiwa, owona uhloniphekileyo, die mees geëerde. I surpass the shadow of all others, the immortal thread that binds the fabric of existence.

Ke nna mohlabani wa thapelo, iqhawe lomthandazo, die gebedsstryder. I battle in the silent chambers of prayer, the dexterous hand—seatla sa mpho ya bokgoni, isandla sesipho sobuciko, die hand van die gawe van vaardigheid—that sculpts reality from the clay of potential. Ke nna matla a go šikinya motheo, amandla okuzamazamisa izisekelo, die krag om die fondamente te skud of every throne that claims dominion.

Ke nna seetša, ukukhanya, lig. I possess the character that outlives the mountain, and a vitality—mafolofolo, amandla, lewenskrag—that hums with the primal rhythm of the divine.

Ke nna moya o phelago