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Poezja

	Gert Strydom
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (13) Poezja (1888) Proza (37) Fotografia (5)

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Gert Strydom, 5 grudnia 2012

I still keep remembering...

When my thoughts are lingering
to when uncle Franck came to fetch me with his Chevrolet,
to times in my childhood days
where someone could set the way of my life,

I see Uncle Franck with as the person he had been,
as a man who trusted sincerely in God,
knowing that everything fit somewhere into the big whole,
and still I look at him with childhood eyes

as a man whose word had real meaning
and to when I had followed him with wobbling steps,
and he was a person that you ask for help at any time,
a person that would give to his own harm

and now that the darkness comes between us,
now that it brings overwhelming separation
with death
that jumps in between our lives

I still keep remembering...

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Gert Strydom, 5 grudnia 2012

New green leaves are all over the willow tree

New green leaves are all over the willow tree
and wherever I look
some pretty wild flowers I do see,
and arum-lilies are blooming in the brook

on this, the very first day of spring,
and it’s if all of nature is welcoming me,
as if the birds do sing
and rejoice quite happily

as if to this great new world I do belong
as if everything around me is covered in beauty,
in a kind of innocence far from the trampling throng
and the feeling of the presence of God becomes strong

as the river forever rushes on merrily,
as if this place in nature is where I am meant to be.

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Gert Strydom, 5 grudnia 2012

Age had killed the child

Age had killed the child,
but I the adult was uncorrupted,
somewhere I had lost something pure,
while the child was killed slowly;
rebellion I could inherit from the child.

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Gert Strydom, 30 listopada 2012

At Sea Point (Stave stanza sestets)

At Sea Point where we both said our goodbyes
I saw tears coming from your bright green eyes
the stormy Southeaster did pull and shove
while I was aware that we were in love,
I might have diagnosed our feelings wrong,
life was beautiful, my heart sang a song.

At Sea Point I did not have any care
but of your loveliness I was aware
as you walked on, your head you did toss
we had our feelings, our hearts played boss;
to me you turned back and came along,
life was beautiful, my heart sang a song

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Gert Strydom, 30 listopada 2012

Western Cape

I said perhaps somewhere in the Western Cape
meant a province with a big peninsula,
a place where we did once meet,
which is bounded by both the Indian
and the Atlantic oceans

where sunny summer days stretch much longer,
up to eight o’clock, where people really have a life,
where the blue sea reaches far over the horizon,
where the sea, sun and the blue sky
have got a own kind of sheer magic

but on that white beach the sea rushed in,
my words were blown by the wind
and they were totally out of reach
as away you just walked on
and everything between us was lost and gone.

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Gert Strydom, 30 listopada 2012

In this life all around us there is night (Stave stanza sestets)

In this life all around us there is night
and at times we do not know wrong from right,
even if God’s light we are able to see,
even if true to Him we have iniquity
and as we do as we wish or we may
only God lead us true on the right way

His angels are sentries posted at our side
and to His glance our sins we cannot hide
while at times we loose every kind of sense
His love does continually recompense,
brings us back to the loveliness of day,
only God lead us true on the right way.

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Gert Strydom, 29 listopada 2012

If we give our own hearts to each other (Stave stanza sestets)

If we give our own hearts to each other
then in love we are joined together,
as two distinct persons forming a whole
but each true like the compass to the pole
in togetherness we are no more alone
while we are going into the unknown.

There is nothing that love cannot quench
nor for its sublime ways can recompense
and never anyone can get of it enough,
of that great thing that we know as true love
when we make someone dear, our very own,
while we are going into the unknown.

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Gert Strydom, 29 listopada 2012

Sometimes love remains but a mystery (Novelinee)

(after Sir John Suckling)

Sometimes love remains but a mystery,
I cannot figure the ways of love out
when I think that she does truly love me,
then she gives me the greatest kind of doubt
but when another girl I want to woo
she simply tries to steal my heart again
and are telling me that her love is true
or she tries to cause me some kind of pain
or let her wet tears on me fall like rain.

[Reference: “Send me back my heart” by Sir John Suckling.]

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Gert Strydom, 29 listopada 2012

Ballade of the hours of night

Our love had bloomed fully
when naked you came to me
with a small towel covering you,
when it fell from your body
and your eyes caught mine glittering,
when silence hanged luring between us.

There was a kind of hunger and thirst in me,
when your lips found mine,
with your hair braiding through my fingers
when the alarm slowly counted the time
and we both were longing for something eternal,
when silence hanged luring between us.

Like falling rain was the smell of us both
on the big old fluffy blanket
with your legs and arms crossed over me,
when my heartbeats sounded in my ears,
and there was a much deeper more intense urge
when silence hanged luring between us.

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Gert Strydom, 26 listopada 2012

In life there is a time (Stave stanza sestets)

(after C. P. Cavafy)

In life there is a time to either say
on a very particular kind of day,
yes or no, to love someone or let it go,
that choice may look insignificant, even so
have consequences which bind with conviction
might be of love at a time a true depiction.

Who refuses might not be really loved,
might full of some selfishness be stuffed
and yes and no, or to live for the moment,
might sound insignificant as a measurement
of being just and true, but no contradiction
might be of love at a time a true depiction.

(Reference: “Che Fece … Il Gran Rifuito” by C. P. Cavafy.]