Breyten Breytenbach. Vertaling uit Afrikaans in Engels. Vert. deur Ampie Coetzee
poems
a tiny sheaf of inheritance,
farmyard- talk when like the song,
of the swan the sun
surrenders in the blood-stained west
before the pale sickle moon,
and you know
the wanderer was at last
however godless
with best foot forward
and armed with words and sword
carefree,
rhyming with the farm’s bleakness
just one more to pass on
at night time’s
cricket silence
making poems
making poems comes out of the tumbling thoughts
op the nightscape where dreams linger
it’s when you lie fully furrowed
in the complicated processes of deep sleep
that the deeper body arises for some wild dancing
through the wordscapes of moon and illusion
may the heart still wink and wobble a little longer
in god’s name do not wake me yet!
Uit: die windvanger, pp 109 en 114. Human & Rousseau, 2007.