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

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Gert Strydom, 22 lutego 2012

In the rays of the moon

In the rays of the moon
I suddenly see you standing, with pain
before the sun starts shining
red like blood, or maybe wine and open
the day was full of hope,
when you walked away,
when the twilight came,
I wanted to reach out, to kiss you
when you went
into the big hill’s green wood
and you were quite naughty,
the morning was still cold covered in fog
when you were already gone
and I realised, that you were going…

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Gert Strydom, 21 lutego 2012

Reflections in a country churchyard (cavatina sequence)

At the very foot of some green hillocks
covered in
orange flowering aloes and proteas
some rows begin
in a place of tranquillity and rest;
avoid of sin
my father and some saints await the call
of God’s clarion gathering large and small.

Some cypress trees are waving in the breeze,
wild doves wander
cooing in the trees, in some rocks a small
salamander
hides from the heat while grass covers the veldt,
no noise slander
through the aeons the rest of forefathers
while that graveyard them together gathers.

Those people had a true great compassion
for fellow men,
were religious zealots but different,
they did know when
to stand back and be selfless in their love,
to find Eden,
daily in sincerity they walked,
of much greater Godly things they talked.

Strange it may seem today but all their time
and wealth was spent
to follow their Godly master’s calling;
sacred, decent
were their lives in their love of Him and man,
each small talent
went only to the Lord’s eternal cause
for themselves they did not even pause.

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Gert Strydom, 21 lutego 2012

Lost in rural suburbia (cavatina sequence)

Streetlights flicker on at the end of day,
the day is gone,
I am on my way far too suddenly
with headlights on,
all around me many tall buildings rise
solid like stone
there are some busy people everywhere,
are always rushing, going here and there.

Coming is darkness of the early night,
some neon lights flash,
the large city does never really sleep,
some people dash
to be in time for dinner appointments,
heaps of old trash
line some of the long backward narrow streets
where whores and slimy characters meet.

No tranquillity is in this city,
I drive away
to somewhere in a old rural suburb,
the headlights play
over a very old graveyard with trees;
on no new day
all the kinsmen that sleep there will awake,
from the high palisade some old paint flake.

I stop across at a small grocery shop,
life I ponder,
were the lives of all those people fairer?
Here and yonder
they daily worked their farms and cornfields
and I wonder
about changing times, about rural bliss,
about how full of crime daily life now is.

This suburb has a own kind of gentleness
with big old trees,
teenagers in love not knowing about
flowers and bees;
I have got to rush to still shop in time,
some employees
are busy leaving, are on their way home
and I get a smile as the owner’s welcome.

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Gert Strydom, 21 lutego 2012

About flowers and trees (Sonnet Corona)

I

Why did the chrysanthemum wait long
to open it’s quivering twisted rays?
When other flowers are gone it grows strong
in these much more colder wintry days

with cups making blossoms like anemones
some seen as feathery, plumed, or spidery
growing big or smaller in shaded tones,
in the winter portraying nature’s imagery

in bronze, brown, purple, red, pink and white
with a single or semi-double blossom
growing to man’s and the Creator’s delight
when ripe makes growing very unwholesome.

Why was it not sprouting, rising, growing
at the beginning of the lovely spring?

II

At the beginning of the lovely spring
in the veldt among big acacia trees
when the first drops of rain are visiting,
drawing new life, flowers and buzzing bees

I find the bulbous hyacinth flowering,
and its appearance, its fragrance
is almost totally overpowering
when it makes its sudden appearance

with pale-blue petals of strings all opening
smelling like a tiny perfumery,
with bell shaped small cups that are hanging
bright among the green and brown scenery

displaying the joys of living and life,
many times have I counted groups of five.

III

Many times have I counted groups of five,
in things making the way that nature is
and have seen five eggs coming to live,
five leaves on flowers with five small bees.

Even on some trees that number is right
but strangely sometimes it might be wrong
and while in nature I walk along,
I see different flowers in a throng,

hear various birds singing their beautiful song,
there’s something in all flowers, in each tree
that tells something about its makers will
who makes all things how they are to be

I have seen even five bundles to a sheaf;
the trees are butting in flower and leaf.

IV

The trees are butting in flower and leaf
as if some kind of magic word was said,
in rejoicing without any small grief,
the growing long green stems upwards do spread

as if new life has come to them again
like from scratch they are programmed to do,
after receiving power from summer rain
but like humans sometimes they do die too

carrying more bountiful each summer day
to the custom of their kind and their breed
till the summer suddenly dwindles away,
again they are stripped as if in need

and I like the fragrant fresh smell the best,
while walking through a huge pine forest.

V

While walking through a huge pine forest
a gentle wind like a friend greeted me
and for lingering long moments I did rest,
feeling from the whole big world somewhat free

and it was filled with the catching smell
of pine trees and soft in its embrace
for many moments long did I there dwell,
by songs of twittering birds amazed

and I then longed forever to be
among the flying birds, the buzzing bees
and the soft shadows, the tranquillity
of the peaked mountain, the large trees,

but sometimes lightning falls in a blue-white spark,
when the stormy wind blows strong in the dark.

VI

When the stormy wind blows strong in the dark
and the dark black evening suddenly glows
and the wind whispers with a howling bark
among the waving, rocking trees and throws

branches breaking, snapping, twisting, tearing;
you can hear that great savage strange beast
walking about, awoke from slumber stirring
during winter in the forest, in the east

suddenly coming to its greatest strength
somewhere in the thick enveloping fog
as the long night draws out darker at length
while its breaking, mauling log upon log,

from this windy monster I want to be free,
let me find some peace and tranquillity.

VII

Let me find some peace and tranquillity
at some places where man have never trod,
experience the greatest kind of beauty
that still is spared from the iron rod

with which man rules cities, huge countries
let me see miracles, see nature’s joys,
away form buildings and big industries,
far away from the scorn, the manmade noise.

Let me smell some sweet wild flowers and lie
on wild grass to find nature’s peace and rest
under a clear blue unpolluted sky,
away from even them whom I love best

and I wonder before the winter comes along,
why did the chrysanthemum wait long?

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Gert Strydom, 20 lutego 2012

Forgive me God

(after Solomon Ibn Gabirol)

Forgive me God and set me free from punishment,
forgive my sins that are so numerous.
Remember me, for the sake of Your love
and even where Your decree has been set,
forgive and see my longing for You.
Wash away my sins as human frailty,
and lead me back to Your company.

[Reference: “His Ilness” by Solomon Ibn Gabirol.]

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Gert Strydom, 20 lutego 2012

Be merciful, my God

(after Judah Ha-Levi)

Be merciful, my God, and I shall prosper.
Let not Your punishment sweep me down.
My life, my love, my existence depends on You.
You know every weakness,
You know even my greatest strength.
You are the one that is my constant companion,
who knows every thought, every word
even before I comprehend them.
Not only on Your companionship do I rely,
I draw my strength, my words and my life from You.

[Reference: “Heal me, my God” by Judah Ha-Levi.]

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Gert Strydom, 20 lutego 2012

Your love and pure integrity is not in dispute, Lord (cavatina sequence)

(after Gerard Manley Hopkins)

Your love and pure integrity is not
in dispute, Lord,
yet my enemies grow in their power,
in Your record
their evil ways constantly do prosper,
they can afford
great mansions are quite happy in their sin
while there is no place for me to be in.

Even if You were not my dearest friend,
I am not free
from trepidation, from Your punishment,
tranquillity,
avoids me, destruction follow in my steps;
iniquity
is with them that do wreck my livelihood,
while constantly I do only mean good.

Let the great harvest come while I tell some
of Your kindness,
give real power to all my words and works,
in my blindness
help me to see all of Your loving care
while You do bless
me again and again in times of strain,
rid me of all my pain, while You send rain.

[Reference: “Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord” by Gerard Manley Hopkins.]

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Gert Strydom, 17 lutego 2012

Something about spring

Spring is something amazing
when flowers suddenly appear
in colour upon colour on branches

when everything comes to life overnight,
in the joy of existing
coming to full maturity.

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Gert Strydom, 17 lutego 2012

Something about winter

Icily the winter touches me,
some trees are stripped like skeletons
as if death touches everything.

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Gert Strydom, 17 lutego 2012

At the first sign of early morning light (Sicilian Septet)

At the first sign of early morning light
there is something strange and incandescent
that is disposing of the darkest night
and when it is over, suddenly spent,
my very own eyes have got the first sight
of a new day that is from heaven sent
and everything is crystal clear and bright.