Gert Strydom, 15 july 2013
(after N.P. van Wyk Louw)
African coots and wild geese drift past
the bulrushes and bushes of reeds
and deeper in the marsh
there is something that comes alive.
As a small child I am at the tributary
and see something strange coming out of the water
and suddenly a monitor appears
that astounds me with its swishing tail
before it gets on its hind legs and touches the air with its tongue
and to me it looks like a crocodile
while another swims around in the stream
and in fright I want to yell and yell.
[Reference: “Seeikoeivle” by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
Gert Strydom, 15 july 2013
In the winter morning’s mist
fat and tame as a chicken
next to the overgrown tree
out came the plover chick
and for a moment I looked at it
and the tiny speckled bird looked at me.
A car passed by with its lights
burning like rays of the sun
against the fog’s canopy
and on the sidewalk
the little bird came still nearer
and drops of dew glistened
on its feathered coat
and in the wide world
limited to each other’s company
was the little plover and I.
There was something to that moment
as perhaps Adam had wandered in the wild
as the bird was at ease
and around us was a kind of tranquillity.
Gert Strydom, 15 july 2013
When butterflies gambol blue-purple during Easter
everywhere in the vineyards
and bees do pollinate, read signs in nature,
and for the last time dew shines on the leaves
while the last bit of summer sun hangs hot
then I think of the sacrifice that You bring
and still the birds do sing their songs
while Your crucifixion becomes a reality to me.
Gert Strydom, 12 july 2013
When I bring you a flower
from our garden,
then you do smile radiating like the sun,
while for moments
you are astounded by the beauty
and you do draw a picture for me
where you lie naked
stretched out in the sheets
and I wish that I could somehow
catch your beauty in a verse,
your hair that hangs in locks,
your smile that goes through all of my barricades
but my words are only wandering around
as if they have got nowhere to go.
Gert Strydom, 12 july 2013
At a time in loving kindness you smiled merrily
but now you do not act that way and are not so
and it’s as if you think I want your life to overthrow
and now it’s as if you do not even regard me
and this is not the way that I want you to be
and at times some of your tears do flow
and sometimes away I want to go
but without you I am never really free
and are desperate among men
and you are in my heart wherever I might dwell
and when I am away I really miss you then
and this is what happens to you as well
and if this is not how real love is,
then I have never known its depths and its bliss.
Gert Strydom, 12 july 2013
The sparkle in your smile
fall like morning dew,
the shining of your eyes beguile
the toil that is waiting fresh and new,
but had you charmed me
at early morning light
from work we would be free
until the darkness of night.
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2013
To you I tried to write a long poem
but did become deeper engaged in sadness
and later did draw lines through the words,
and I did cry and wrote no verses to you
as to me it was a task that I could not do.
To you I tried to write a long poem
but you did not want to be in love with me
and I am only blinded by the great pain
and now nothing really does matter.
but to you I tried to write a long poem.
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2013
Far too quickly life does past
and even meaning comes to a end
while loved ones disappear one after the other
without anyone being able to change anything of it
and it’s as if pain does cut right through your body.
Far too quickly life does past
and even thoughts do not want to stay with you
and jolliness and youth are bound to time
while everything passes quickly
and totally alone life leaves everyone.
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2013
When time does bring me nearer
and all of my years are running out
at a time and place where I loose my mind
and do forget myself and all of my writings
then life does become an ugly thing.
When time does bring me nearer
then I ask the Father to act
to prepare a place for me at His time
to be sorry for me in His great mercy
and to end my life to bring it to its fullness.
Gert Strydom, 10 july 2013
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he bridles it and there is pain
in the old man’s body,
but the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
In the distance a red Massy Ferguson tractor
ploughs drawing neat lines, but he’s still the administrator
and it’s early spring with every thing living rejoicing
but the ache in the flesh reminds him of the words of the doctor.
His son is out there tracking the field
and it’s as if he has now to yield
before the young, who are vital and strong
just have to go along, but he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth
surrounds him, almost like a token of new birth
and his young wife looks up and smiles with eyes full of promises
while he secures a saddle with a girth,
puts a foot in a stirrup and reach up
for the knob on the saddle and for moments they look at each other
and her gaze is enticing, filled with spirit
her hair is blowing in the wind like surf on the beach
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
acts with love, as if under his spell
while they gallop away
and he has got cancer, is a dying man, unwell
but life is really great and the sun, wind and sky
is familiar like any other day, where he is saddled high
and they meet him as friends, companions before he turns,
rides home to a wife who looks lovely to his eyes.
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