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Gert Strydom, 20 grudnia 2011
The autumn is in the leaves
The autumn is in the leaves,
in the gestures of people,
when trees are already standing as skeletons,
the autumn is bringing pain
when the winter appears,
the stormy wind blows doors close
with spots of sun splashing down,
stripped trees are in their bark,
lonely I walk in the lane.
Gert Strydom, 20 grudnia 2011
The night has come early
The night has come early,
the thunder hits with power
at my house against the hillock,
as if it is coming from God himself,
when you knock I am surprised,
see the lights of your car shining,
it is very rough outside
with rain against the windows,
you embrace me, take my hand.
Gert Strydom, 20 grudnia 2011
There was a dark night
There was a dark night
where I was waiting for you,
the hour stayed far, somewhat confusing
as you were carrying my name,
had gone to a lover
and I did feel the pain in my heart
and did know that you were lying
when I came upon the truth,
your eyes betrayed you, left only sorrow.
Gert Strydom, 19 grudnia 2011
Lord, You are the Captain of my soul (in answer to William Ernest Henley)
Even when the darkest darkness covers me
when no compass can find its magnetic pole,
when there is nothing at all that I can see
You still beacon me to draw my very soul.
In the striking of destiny and chance,
Your power is still here, is still about,
in the worst of any circumstance
You still care when I am really worn out.
Through the aging of many passing years
with You at my side, I am unafraid,
as in all happiness and all my tears
You are constantly coming to my aid.
Wherever my life goes, whatever is my destiny,
Your consistent love keeps making me whole
and leaves all my choices totally free
while You steer my life, are captaining my soul.
[Reference: “Invictus” or “Out of the night that covers me” by William Ernest Henley. Read my other poem titled “Invictus” and “The Soul’s Captain” by Orson F. Whitney for more replies to this poem by William Ernest Henley.]
Gert Strydom, 19 grudnia 2011
Glory to God (Curtal sonnet)
Glory to God, some early birds does sing
while in winter the icy snow does glow,
in summers the sun rise hot and lovely
while there is some pleasure in everything,
and with tranquillity the waters do flow
while all of nature then feels somewhat free
All things over time then begins to change
as if joy, is found everywhere with glee
and in this we do God’s presence know
although nothing is out of place or strange
as then all things has beauty.
Gert Strydom, 19 grudnia 2011
The magic of His designs
(after William Cowper)
The magic of His designs
all around us we see,
the working of His divine skill
nature continually displays
and in mysterious ways
His unending love
works selflessly
falling for evermore
like showers from above
and even if we do not want to admit
that He exists and judge His works
by our own feeble sense
make statements by our science
we still do err in incompetence
while His works persist,
His amazing grace and love stays boundless.
[Reference: “Light Shining Out of Darkness” by William Cowper.]
Gert Strydom, 16 grudnia 2011
Salmon van As
(after C. Louis Leipoldt)
On a night just as the moon is rising
a British officer comes by horse with a white flag
and the rifle barrels of the Boers follow him,
as they are on guard at the front post.
Evening after evening he comes
and sometimes rides past in a cloud of dust
where he is spying on their positions
and tries to lead them astray with his chattering.
With words that by now they know:
“No nation will win against us.
Surrender tonight,
as you have already lost the war.”
On a hillock Salmon van As is at the front post
and something creaks below him in the trees and bushes
where he is standing with his Mauser rifle at the ready
and he knows of the atrocities of this Englishman
where with a thunder clap he shoots at him.
Some black men run back to the British camp
to tell the story of the shot,
where a red headed major stamps his feet in anger
and swears to God to take revenge.
Convinced of his own innocence Salmon van As
stays openly on his own farm,
where he goes on with his life in Heidelberg
and just after the peace of Vereniging,
when it fits the British,
they insist on his arrest.
He is brought before a military court
where he is not given any chance to defend himself,
as probably he would have succeeded in his own defence
and the British officer says his final say.
At daylight the Lee Metford rifles of the British soldiers fire
and like Gideon Scheepers there’s a Boer that falls,
a Boer citizen is murdered by the British
and in the cliff a thorn tree on his grave still tells that story.
[Reference: “Salmon van As” by C. Louis Leipoldt.]
Gert Strydom, 16 grudnia 2011
Commandant Gideon Scheepers [2]
Not only was he assassinated
as a ill man captured in the field
by a British firing squad
but was buried in the ground
in a grave unmarked
planted without a coffin,
buried like rubbish,
or rotting dead meat,
like weed
without anyone heeding
where they laid him down.
[References: The rank of Commandant is equivalent to that of Lieutenant Colonel. The heroic story of the Boer Commandant Gideon Scheepers during the second Anglo-Boer war that was captured while being ill in the veldt as a normal combatant, but treated like a rebel and shot by the British, who buried him in an unmarked hole in the ground.]
Gert Strydom, 16 grudnia 2011
To a Queen (in answer to Alfred Lord Tennyson) (pastiche)
(with apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Tempered, complicated – O you that bold
send armies from your office to roam the earth
spoiled by charms, power from birth
your deception has been told since the kings of old.
Victoria, - from your royal face,
from your lips to your brow
snobbishness did flow,
without grace, you treated my people base.
And should your weakness, be reported everywhere,
in gossip and jokes in your fallen empire that declines with time
then let this verse, this rhyme
tell of the worthlessness and how without care,
Then – your soldiers made mistakes,
and in a wild march to scorch the earth, women and children did fall
while you sat enthroned behind a palace-wall
while under trampling boots, canon fire the earth shakes –
Take, Madam, these accusations along,
for from your faults my people was buried in dust,
while Englishmen were heathen they could not trust,
your mindlessness, at a time flowed strong,
And as a ruler spoiling blood
you will have a price to pay in the last day!
May children of my nation’s children say:
“She robbed our parents from liberty, property and food.”
“Her court was impure, her life unclean;
God unleash your power against every vile purpose,
let Your eternal judgment in its reckoning close
against Victoria’s descendants, against the queen;”
“And to the men who at her councils met
who knew when to rape, pillage and take
let You of them a example make,
them who bounded freedom, abusing wider yet”
“By shaping unwanted, unjust decree after decree
which made the innocents blood spill
who exercised their own will
and forever cursed Victoria and they will be.”
[References: “To The Queen: Revered, beloved – O you that hold” by Alfred Lord Tennyson. This poem is written in remembrance of the twenty thousand (some figures are as high as thirty five thousand) innocent white Afrikaner women and children that died in British concentration camps in South Africa, after their farms and houses were scorched by the British in the Anglo-Boer war in South Africa, which includes a great grandmother of mine. For a clear picture of these atrocities read my epic poem “Through the eyes of a field coronet” which is based on the eyewitness account of field coronet (Captain) JJ Potgieter.]
Gert Strydom, 15 grudnia 2011
False Bay (Collins sestet)
(after Matthew Arnold)
Tonight over the sea there are small lights,
Cape Town against Table Mountain lying bright
where it is flat against the evening sky
and in the distance a liner passes by
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.
The stream of life did into the sea go
with joy, grace and hope in its ebb and flow
but debris, broken pieces are washed ashore
with pollution caught in the breaking roar
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.
Stars sparkle and the light wind furls through your hair
while on the beach we are the only pair
and you swear to be true eternally,
a bright beacon in the darkness we see
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.
[Reference: “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold.]
Ostatnie komentarze:
16 października 2024
Jaga
Ta piękniejsza droga jesieni :)
16 października 2024
Też go lubię i zazwyczaj widuję samego :)
16 października 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
trzeba jej wyrecytować
16 października 2024
Marian, w punkt, jak zwykle :))
16 października 2024
I wiele innych, pożywnych składników :))
16 października 2024
Objadł się gryki i prawie zasnął na stojąco,
16 października 2024
I tą świeżą zostanie :)) Dziękuję Ananke
16 października 2024
Eva T.
Straszy ;)
16 października 2024
:)
16 października 2024
Mam podobne zdanie o AI. Facebook zawalony pracami
16 października 2024
Piekny!
16 października 2024
Marian Banaszak
urocze i dobrze zadane pytanie bo jeżeli zdjęcie
16 października 2024
Jaga
16 października 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
16 października 2024
Eva T.
15 października 2024
sam53
15 października 2024
sam53
15 października 2024
wiesiek
15 października 2024
Yaro
14 października 2024
Yaro
14 października 2024
Jaga
14 października 2024
sam53