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Poezja

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

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Gert Strydom, 17 kwietnia 2014

With the setting sun

With the setting sun
our dog has puppies
and gets five of them under a bush
(perfect tiny Jack Russell’s)
and I leave them as the evening comes
not wanting to disturb her
where she is covering them

and in the kitchen I am washing dishes
are moments away from the television’s dim witted rush
and I hear you, my darling, laughing
and that sound seems sweet in my ears
and although I do not understand
the complexities, heartaches and miracles of life fully
I feel lucky to be your man

and in the distance the turbines whine
at the Impala Platinum Refinery,
the siren of a train rings into the night
while lorries and cars rush past on the highway
and although our finances are tight
life is beautiful and it’s really great
and the dishes are washed and dried and packed away
and I return to you
and are away from the cold world outside.

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Gert Strydom, 16 kwietnia 2014

The sky is bright blue

The sky is bright blue
with a golden sun that is still summer
while the first leaves of autumn begins to fall
and there is peace and tranquillity in my universe

until the phone curses shrilly,
the neighbour’s children run around in the street
screaming wherever they go,
while they throw each other with lumps,

guests that come visiting
ring the front bell
and the dogs bark
running up and down in the yard.

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Gert Strydom, 15 kwietnia 2014

Each morning when the night is swept away (English sonnet)

Each morning when the night is swept away
with extreme tenderness I find you next to me
and you bring something special to each day
to the way that it is supposed to be

and even when the evenings are cold
when the winter winds do constantly cry
your love and kindness I do behold
as there is something special between you and I

and even when the grave shade
of death comes unexpectedly
our relationship cannot fade
and you are a part of me

and nothing can remove
the depth and impact of our love.

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Gert Strydom, 14 kwietnia 2014

To my wife (English sonnet)

Sincere, sweet, bright, lovely and very true
with a will that does not easily bend
as my love the great creator has made you,
to accompany me towards the world’s end.

With energy, valour as blazing fire,
as a companion against evil to death
with a strong spirit that never does tire,
that brings some happiness with every breath

you are my teacher, comrade and dear wife
who brings a kind of peace, some tranquility,
who travels with me in a world of strive
with a natural beauty and some serenity

that constantly brings a new kind of hope,
as your love stretches wide in its great scope.

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Gert Strydom, 11 kwietnia 2014

Like some roots anchoring the same big tree (Envelope couplet sestet)

Like some roots anchoring the same big tree
in life you do constantly anchor me
at times when it is really very dark
your very presence covers me like bark
while in life you try to hold me sturdy
like some roots anchoring the same big tree.

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Gert Strydom, 10 kwietnia 2014

In each raindrop there is a kind of magic (Enclosed Triplet)

In each raindrop there is a kind of magic,
magic in the falling blue-white thunder,
the thunder that in a flash downward flick

the flick of something about which I wonder,
the wonder that again brings fresh new life,
new life to where seeds are turned under.

The bright rainbow has a own kind of spell,
a spell of time when the hot sun blazes,
blazes in brilliance as all is well,

while the deep well suddenly amazes,
amazes with water that is clear and pure,
pure to the taste as heat hangs in a haze.

Nothing can the power of rain remove
as overnight the grass and the crops jumps,
proving the great power of divine love.

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Gert Strydom, 9 kwietnia 2014

I want to go to the high-veldt

I want to go to the high-veldt,
I want to look up into the pale-blue sky,
stand next to the green hillocks

and I want to walk on the red sand
when the stormy weather rises
and barefoot leave my tracks there,

I want to raise my eyes to the heavenly lights,
and at night look at the bright stars.
I want to go to the high-veldt,

leave marks that betray my presence,
see the blue-white sparks jump
when the stormy weather rises,

smell the falling rain,
see how the wet ground looks,
stand next to the green hillocks

where nature pays homage to the Creator
and I want to experience the world of my childhood days,
see the blue-white sparks jump

and fold my hand around beautiful stones
and like marbles stroke over them.
I want to go to the high-veldt,

leave no place unvisited on my hike,
find all of the old secret places again
and I want to experience the world of my childhood days,

follow the sun on its bright white orbit,
to where the most distant horizon is,
stand next to the green hillocks

and blinded in the eyes of a child
live out moments of my childhood days again,
find all of the old secret places,

just walking on and on
without diverting from the old footpaths.
I want to go to the high-veldt,
stand next to the green hillocks,

for moments be woven back into the fabric of time
and I want to walk on the red sand,
live out moments of my childhood days again
and barefoot leave my tracks there.

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Gert Strydom, 8 kwietnia 2014

Sometimes the things I do (Persian / Rubiyat quatrain)

Sometimes the things I do and say
is like a sword a that I do sway
and it’s not mine to take up
but yet I do it day by day.

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Gert Strydom, 7 kwietnia 2014

From Abelard to Heloise

I want much more
than mixed joy and pain
and no comfort
or just memories
are enough for me

and although I am lonely
I am still searching for meaning
and I want to feel you lie beneath me,
hear you call out my name
but we are torn away from each other
and now I have got to press my love
into a few words in a verse.

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Gert Strydom, 4 kwietnia 2014

Near Heidelberg

Near Heidelberg there is a piece of farmland
where as a child I did find tranquility
and from all kinds of obligations felt free
when the perils of life I did not understand

and in the open veldt mind chains are gone,
when there is only the sky and hillocks of solid stone.

In towns and cities I have spend many days,
have felt the meaninglessness of what life is,
a loving woman's bliss
and have experienced people and their weird despairing ways

and at a time life did simple seem
but the entire world changed
and my own life was rearranged
and from the choices of youth I cannot myself redeem

but at the stream on the farmland weavers are twittering
and no one else does there go
or perhaps of this place do know
and in the silence there I find something
that brings a kind of peace to the heart.