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Archive for the ‘Laurika Rauch’ Category

striking song by Laurika. How many places and people can we add for a second song?

London Paris Rome Berlin
Barcelona Washington
Moscow Beijing Tokyo
Jerusalem Jericho
Waco Waco Bethlehem
Srebrenica Sebokeng
Sarajevo O Saigon
Hiroshima Rubicon
CHORUS:
I can see a fiery, fiery glow
Even as the sun is sinking low
I can see a horseman on the run
Oh my daughter, oh my son

Dunkirk Dover Normandy
Frankfurt New York Lockerbie
Amajuba Bellevue
Chappaquiddick Waterloo

Bucharest St Petersburg
Heilbron Hobhouse Gettysburg
Belfast Budapest Baghdad
Berchtesgaden Stalingrad

CHORUS

Carthage Dresden Babylon
Sharpeville My Lai Boipatong
Delville Wood El Alamein
St Helena Mitchell’s Plain

Balaklava Austerlitz
Belsen Buchenwald Auschwitz
Nagasaki o Versailles
Armageddon Thermopylae

CHORUS

REPEAT CHORUS:
There’s another song that will be sung
There’s another bell that must be rung
There’s another city I’ve been told
Where the streets are paved with gold

There’s another city I’ve been told
Where the streets are paved with gold

 hotgates

Have you read The Hot Gates? The author of ‘Lord of the Flies‘ – which I had as a prescribed book at the age of 14 and found the story very upsetting at the time.

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dance_alone

The Dancer: Image: noise.net/featured-work.asp?artist_id=8618&category_id=4

This entry is quite an odd entry. I have a few snippets of music files which I truly enjoy and they are some of the about 2GB music files on my MP3-player. The first file is the Elizabeth Serenade, then you can listen to “The mouth organ boy” – by Vicky Leandros. The 3rd song is by Laurika Rauch..”The song of the trains” and then you can enjoy Jackson Browne’s “For a dancer”- a bit down in this entry!

I also have a poem! “The Night Mail”. I had to teach this poem to Y4’s a few years ago and when I searched for the poem, I found it on a website which was about the Night Mail…Royal Mail! It was such interesting reading – the history of the night mail, but what was sad, was the fact that the services of the Night Mail train were terminated. The same time it was about to be terminated,  I came across the site and the poem. There was an abundance of info on that site, but it seems to me that the site, where I found the poem, doesn’t exist anymore! What a shame! I could find you a newspaper article about this train- at least! The poem by Auden is about this train! The Royal Night Mail was about the train from London to Scotland/Wales…see the youtube movie-links at the bottom of this post… and there are even more movies on youtube to be seen! Do enjoy it! Enjoy the music here too! Wherever you go this week, make sure you “make a joyful sound”! – see the lyrics of “For a Dancer”.

 


Night Train
(Commentary for a G.P.O. Film, July 1935)

by W.H. Auden (1907 – 1973)

This is the Night Mail crossing the border,Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.

Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,

Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.

Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches.

Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.

In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in the bedroom gently shakes.

Dawn freshens. Her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends
Towards the steam tugs yelping down the glade of cranes,
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In the dark glens, beside the pale-green sea lochs
Men long for news.

Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from the girl and the boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or visit relations,
And applications for situations
And timid lovers’ declarations
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled in the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Notes from overseas to Hebrides
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, adoring,
The cold and official and the heart’s outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.

Thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of terrifying monsters,
Or of friendly tea beside the band at Cranston’s or Crawford’s:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
And shall wake soon and long for letters,
And none will hear the postman’s knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

It was one of the world’s great railway journeys, but you could not book a seat on it. It inspired two of Britain’s greatest 20th-century poets, and Britain’s most infamous bunch of 20th-century villains. It rushed through the darkness, utterly reliable, while the rest of us slept. But last night it ran for the last time.


Please click
HERE to read more about the last Night Mail train from London. The link will open in a new window.

nightmail

Night Mail Image: See more images on this link….http://flickr.com/photos/scardy/421208053/in/set-72157594588477493/


Image: buckinghamcovers.com

jacksonbrowne

Jackson Browne

For a Dancer..by Jackson Browne

Keep a fire burning in your eye
Pay attention to the open sky
You never know what will be coming down
I dont remember losing track of you
You were always dancing in and out of view
I must have thought you’d always be around
Always keeping things real by playing the clown
Now you’re nowhere to be found

I dont know what happens when people die
Can’t seem to grasp it as hard as I try
It’s like a song I can hear playing right in my ear
That I can’t sing
I can’t help listening
And I can’t help feeling stupid standing round
Crying as they ease you down
cause I know that youd rather we were dancing
Dancing our sorrow away
(right on dancing)
No matter what fate chooses to play
(theres nothing you can do about it anyway)

Just do the steps that youve been shown
By everyone you’ve ever known
Until the dance becomes your very own
No matter how close to yours
Anothers steps have grown
In the end there is one dance you’ll do alone

Keep a fire for the human race
Let your prayers go drifting into space
You never know what will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near
And just as easily it could all disappear
Along with whatever meaning you might have found
Don’t let the uncertainty turn you around
(the world keeps turning around and around)
Go on and make a joyful sound

Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
But you’ll never know.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=zmciuKsBOi0
The poem on this link on youtube.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=AlG4dLxHjCY
The Royal Mail on this youtube-link.

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Another award for my blog and this time by Little Indian! which I receive with much appreciation, Little Indian! I’ve started recently reading his blog and he’s also  a great cricket fan…and even has a blog with a forum!  I have to nominate 7 other blogs,  but I know Little Indian would be happy with me passing it this time as I’ve just nominated 8 blogs 2 days ago for my other award. Instead, I’m going to let you all listen to an Afrikaans song, it’s beautiful and I love it. I’ve previously blogged a song by Laurika Rauch which I’ve translated for you in English…- called “Suncatcher”…- to understand the words. This time, I want you to listen and follow the English words as it’s such a beautiful song…a little bit of a “blues” song…words of the song by Christopher Torr. With any song you translate (or poem) is not always easy to keep the  rhyming pattern and in this case, it was again a problem, but at least the song makes sense and you can enjoy it! I’ve previously said and I would like to say again…Laurika Rauch is one of our best Afrikaans artists in South Africa. We all love her to bits and she’s just amazing! If you follow the link in this post, you will see the audience’s reaction when she approaches the stage to sing her song with Valliant. Wow! while two other bloggers mentioned stats, I took a look myself this morning and found this number in the total summary…and this is since Nov when I moved my blog from Blogger…thanks to you all as you the visitor, caused this number!


 Image: http://protopopescu.org/dan/Travel/Scotland

DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS

KOOR (1):
SING VIR MY SAGGIES, SING VAN DIE REËN
WAAR KOM DIT VANDAAN, WAAR GAAN DIT HEEN?
MY HART IS AL LANKAL, LANKAL GEBREEK
EK HET JOU BYNA, JOU BYNA VERGEET

1. DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS BESKOU
DIE LIEFDE SOOS DIE OGGENDDOU
MY HART IS LANKAL REEDS GEBREEK
EK HET DIT NET-NET WEGGESTEEK

2. DALK IS DIE LIEFDE SOOS DIE REËN
DIT SAL DIE AARDE PLEK-PLEK SEËN
DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS SÊ JA
VERSPREIDE BUIE HIER EN DAAR

KOOR (1)

3. DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS WIL HOOR
WAAR HET JY EERS JOU HART VERLOOR?
DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS SÊ NEE
DAAR’S BAIE VISSE IN DIE SEE

4. MY HART IS AMPER WEER GEBREEK
EK HET DIT NET-NET WEGGESTEEK
DIE MENSE OP DIE BUS BESKOU
DIE LIEFDE SOOS DIE OGGENDDOU

KOOR (2):
SING VIR MY SAGGIES, SING VAN DIE REËN
WAAR KOM DIT VANDAAN, WAAR GAAN DIT HEEN?
MY HART IS AL LANKAL, LANKAL GEBREEK
EK HET JOU BYNAAM, JOU BYNAAM VERGEET

2X KOOR (1)

…EK HET JOU BYNAAM, JOU BYNAAM VERGEET


Sivertson.com/Images/

English :

..”The people on the bus”

Choir (1)
Sing to me softly, sing ’bout the rain
Where does it come from, where does it go?
My heart’s been broken long, long ago
I nearly forgot you, so very nearly

1. The people on the bus regard
Love like the early morning dew
My heart’s already been broken long ago
I have hidden it only just

2. Perhaps the love is like the rain
Blessing the earth just here and there
The people on the bus say yeah
Scattered showers here and there

Choir (1)
Sing to me softly, sing ’bout the rain
Where does it come from, where does it go?
My heart’s been broken long, long ago
I nearly forgot you, so very nearly

3. The people on the bus want to hear
Where you’d first lost your heart?
The people on the bus say no
There’s plenty of fish in the sea

4. My heart was nearly broken ‘gain
I have only just hidden it
The people on the bus regard
Love like the early morning dew

Choir (2)
Sing to my softly, sing ’bout the rain
Where does it come from, where does it go?
My heart’s been broken long, long ago
I have forgotten your nickname

Choir 1:
Sing to me softly, sing ’bout the rain
Where does it come from, where does it go?
My heart’s been broken long, long ago
I nearly forgot you, so very nearly

Sing to me softly, sing ’bout the rain
Where does it come from, where does it go?
My heart’s been broken long, long ago
I have forgotten your nickname
I have forgotten your nickname


Image: lockhartfineart.com…Rain showers at Monarch Lake

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Image:eso-garden.com

This song is one of my favourites, sung by Laurika Rauch, also one of my favourite South African artists. Laurika is a legend in South Africa and many South Africans love her for her music…and I’m definitely one of them. If you click on the page-link that says…”don’t miss this song”, you can listen to her singing another song together with Valiant Swart…and I’ve translated that song for you to understand the song that’s about a sun catcher… This song is about her as a young girl, where she says she used to believe in Santa ….she saw Santa walking through the corn fields one day and her brother asked if Santa was from Clocolan….then one day  she saw Santa’s suit…and she realised that he wasn’t real…all her dreams were scattered… she also sings about girls having dreams about their future partners and she wrote a letter to Santa …describing him her dream partner…


WOW! This image is from THIS SITE where you can see more fantastic breathtaking images! This is the road to Clocolan…the small town Laurika mentions in her song…in her song her little brother asks her if Santa was from Clocolan…
 

EK HET IN MY KINDERJARE VAS GEGLO IN KERSFEESVADER
IN WERKLIKHEID RY HY MOS MET ‘N SLEE
MAAR HIER STAP HY DEUR DIE MIELIES, MET ‘N STREEPSAK
EN ‘N KIERIE
EN MY BOETIE VRA, “BOER HY BY CLOCOLAN?”
KOOR:
WAAR IS JOU RENDIER EN SILWER SPORE?
WAAR IS ONS DROME VAN GISTERAAND?
VLIEG OOR DIE BOME MET MY DROME
KYK HOE GLINSTER DIE MAAN

DIE WINDE VAN DIE WINTER HET MY KINDERHART ONTNUGTER
EK EN BOETIE KRY ‘N ROOI JAS IN DIE LAAI
JONK VAN JARE, OUD VAN DAE, HUIL EK HARTSEER
IN MY KAMER
WANT DIE FANTASIE HET SOOS ‘N DROOM VERDWYN

KOOR

IN ‘N BRIEF VAN LATER JARE, SKRYF EK “LIEWE KERSFEESVADER
ELKE MEISIE HET ‘N SPESIALE WENS
VIR ‘N MAN SO SOET SOOS SUIKER, MET ‘N MOTOR SONDER DUIKE
EN SOEN HY JOU DINK JY DIS NET ‘N DROOM”

KOOR

EK STAP TOE OP ‘N AAND LAAT, MET ‘N KÊREL UIT DIE VRYSTAAT
AL BESTUUR HY ‘N OU BAKKIE, SÊ EK “KERSFEESVADER, DANKIE!”
WANT AL SY SOENE IS SOOS SUIKER, EN IN SY HANDE ‘N DIAMANT
VLIEG OOR DIE BOME MET MY DROME
KYK HOE GLINSTER DIE MAAN

HIER’S ONS KINDERS OM DIE BOOMPIE, HULLE WAG NOU VIR DIE OOMPIE
MY DOGTERTJIE IS NET ‘N BIETJIE BANG
MAAR HY STAP SOMMER UIT DIE BRANDERS, JA DIE TYE HET VERANDER
MY SEUNTJIE VRA, “WOON HY IN JEFFRIESBAAI?”

KOOR
Read what Wipneus says in her post about “dreams” HERE , but it’s an entry in Afrikaans. The link will open in a new window.

Image:Childrenshospital.org

On THIS LINK you can read about dreams….The link will open in a new window.

From the book “Dreams”…by Olive Schreiner…

 And God laughed at me; and I wondered why he laughed.

God said, “Come, and I will show you Heaven.”

And partly I awoke. It was still and dark; the sound of the carriages had
died in the street; the woman who laughed was gone; and the policeman’s
tread was heard no more. In the dark it seemed as if a great hand lay upon
my heart, and crushed it. I tried to breathe and tossed from side to side;
and then again I fell asleep, and dreamed.

God took me to the edge of that world. It ended. I looked down. The
gulf, it seemed to me, was fathomless, and then I saw two bridges crossing
it that both sloped upwards.

I said to God, “Is there no other way by which men cross it?”

God said, “One; it rises far from here and slopes straight upwards.

I asked God what the bridges’ names were.

God said, “What matter for the names? Call them the Good, the True, the
Beautiful, if you will–you will yet not understand them.”

Please click HERE to read the entire book …”Dreams” online written by a South African writer…Olive Schreiner….the link will open in a new window….and on THIS LINK  you can read more about her…the link will open in a new window.

Image:http://zar.co.za/schreiner.htm
other works of Olive include:


The Story of an African Farm as Ralph Iron, 1883
Dreams, 1890
Dream Life and Real Life, 1893
The Political Situation (with S C Cronwright-Schreiner), 1896
Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland, 1897
An English South African’s View of the Situation, 1899
Women and Labour, 1911
Stories, Dreams and Allegories, 1923
From Man To Man, 1926
Undine, 1928

 

Olive Schreiner rose to international fame as the first major South African writer of fiction, as an eloquent advocate of feminism, socialism, pacifism and free thought, as a trenchant critic of British imperialism and racism. Perhaps best known for her novel ‘The Story of an African Farm’, Schreiner wrote political and social treatises as well as allegories and short stories.

She was born into a poor family of a Boer father and English mother, the ninth of 12 children. She lived a life of incredible hardship: her father was a missionary of implacable religious zeal and her mother aggressively attempted to maintain a European sensibility as the family nomadically wandered from mission to mission throughout the Transvaal. Schreiner was self-educated; her early influences included the philosophers Herbert Spencer and John Stuart Mill, and the naturalist Charles Darwin.”..read on the link I’ve given about her…more…

On THIS LINK you can visit the site of the movie based on her book…”The Story of an African farm”…
The link will open in a new window.

by Gustavus Hindman Miller.
Fireside; 1st Fireside Ed edition, 1985 | 592 pages | PDF | 1.4MB 
Click on the link to download the dictionary of dreams…the link will open in a new window.
the_dictionary_of_dreams_10_000_dreams_interpreted


 
What do you believe about dreams….read this interesting article if you want to dream like an Egyptian! I’ve got a Dutch dream book…more like a dictionary, but quite old…unfortunately packed away in SA…would love to have it so I could blog it..it was always interesting to read what they say if you dream about something, what it means… it has happened to me twice that I dream about people and funerals..then it was when there was really going to be a funeral in the family! The first time it happened was when I was a student…and a couple of days later, my beloved grandma died! After the second time, I really believe that there is some meaning we can attach to dreams!

 

Image: eso-garden.com

DREAMING LIKE AN EGYPTIAN

by Robert Moss

The ancient Egyptians understood that in dreams, our eyes are opened. Their word for dream, rswt, is etymologically connected to the root meaning “to be awake”. It was written with a symbol representing an open eye.

The Egyptians believed that the gods speak to us in dreams. As the Bible story of Joseph and Pharaoh reminds us, they paid close attention to dream messages about the possible future. They practiced dream incubation for guidance and healing at temples and sacred sites. They understood that by recalling and working with dreams, we develop the art of memory, tapping into knowledge that belonged to us before we entered this life journey, and awakening to our connection with other life experiences.

The Egyptians also developed an advanced practice of conscious dream travel.

Trained dreamers operated as seers, remote viewers and telepaths, advising on affairs of state and military strategy and providing a mental communications network between far-flung temples and administrative centers.

They practiced shapeshifting, crossing time and space in the dreambodies of birds and animals.

Through conscious dream travel, ancient Egypt’s “frequent flyers” explored the roads of the afterlife and the multidimensional universe. It was understood that true initiation and transformation takes place in a deeper reality accessible through the dream journey beyond the body.
Please click on
THIS LINK to read the entire article. The link will open in a new window.

 DO BABIES DREAM?

Babies dream, says Dr. Charles P. Pollak, director of the Center for Sleep Medicine at NewYork-Presbyterian/Weill Cornell hospital in the New York Times.

In what seems like a rather gutless attempt to explain why he thinks babies dream, Dr. Pollack says, babies sleep because babies experience REM sleep (I have experienced REM sleep, too, any time you put in one of their last five albums). Because infants have REM sleep, Dr. Pollack says, “It is a well-based inference that babies are dreaming in REM sleep.”
Click HERE to read about babies’ dreams…The link will open in a new window.

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suncatcher.pngThis is the most beautiful song by Laurika Rauch and Valiant Swart.  They sing about the sun….”Suncatcher” – ….Laurika Rauch is really one of our best artists in South Africa… she’s a beloved singer, well, I do love her music and I think most other South Africans too as you will notice the reaction of the audience when she appears on  stage to sing with Valiant. She’s really done her bit for Afrikaans and she’s a big legend in SA.  This song is in Afrikaans and I’ve tried my best to translate this “Sonvanger” (Suncatcher) in English, please listen to the music while following the words as  this is a special song! You can also follow the words as I’ve translated her song in English. Enjoy!

Please click HERE to listen to her singing an English song, called… “The old folk”…beautiful! 

SONVANGER

Valiant Swart

KYK OF JY VIR MY DIE SON KAN VANG
DAAR’S ‘N KAMER IN DIE HUIS WAAR ONS DIE SON KAN HANG
DIS DONKER BY DIE VENSTER IN DIE MIDDEL VAN DIE DAG
ONTHOU JY HOE HELDER DIE KAMER KON LAG

KYK OF JY VIR MY DIE SON KAN BRING
DAAR’S ‘N LIEDJIE IN DIE GANGE WAT DIE SON KAN SING
WANT DIS STIL IN DIE HOEKE, HIERDIE KOUE SEISOEN
KAN JY SIEN WAT DIE WIND EN DIE REËN AAN MY DOEN

REFREIN:
S-O-NVANGER
EK VRA JOU MOOI, LAAT HOM WEER VIR MY KOM SKYN
S-O-NVANGER
LAAT MY VERSTAAN
HOE ‘N SOMER SOMMERSO IN DIE NIET KAN VERDWYN
EN LAAT HOM SKYN

KYK OF JY VIR MY DIE SON KAN KRY
DAAR’S ‘N HUISIE IN MY HART WAAR DIE SON KAN BLY
KYK OF JY VIR MY DIE SON KAN STEEL
DAAR’S ‘N PLEKKIE IN DIE TUIN WAAR DIE SON KAN SPEEL

REFREIN
BRING ‘N BIETJIE LIG VIR DIE DRAAIE OP MY PAD
EN ‘N HANDJIEVOL STRALE VIR DIE DONKER IN MY HART

S-O-NVANGER

Suncatcher

See if you could catch me the sun
There’s a room in the house where it can be hung
It’s dark by the window in the middle of the day
Do you remember how brightly the room could laugh?

See if you could bring me the sun
There’s a song in the corridors the sun can sing
Coz it’s quiet in the corners, this cold season
Can you see what the wind and rain do to me?

Choir:
S-u-ncatcher!
I ask you, please, let it shine for me again
S-u-ncatcher!
Let me understand
How a summer disappear like that in the nothingness
And let it shine

See if you could get me the sun
There’s a home in my heart where the sun can live
See if you could steal me the sun
There’s a place in the garden where the sun can play

Choir:
S-u-ncatcher!
I ask you please, let it shine for me again
S-u-ncatcher!
Let me understand
How a summer could disappear like that in the  nothingness
And let it shine

Bring some light for the meanders on my road
And a handful of rays for the darkness in my heart

~~~Nikita

This next song is sung by Helmut Lotti, a Belgium artist….singing Afrikaans….a very old folk song called “Sarie Marias”.
Steve Hofmeyr…..from the TV-series (couple of years ago)….”Agter elke man..” ….(“Behind every man…”)

 

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7 December-poem
This poem comes from a “poetic calendar”. There’s a poem for every day and it’s actually a book used by Teachers and I want to share a poem for today from this book! Fridays always feel to me like a special day for poetry! A day to relax! So…relax and enjoy! As student, Ingrid Jonker’s poems really appealed to me…and “Bitterbessie Dagbreek” was always somewhere on a door/wall in my room. At the bottom of this post, you will find a link to read more about her….her poems were translated in many languages!
Follow this link
HERE to listen to her poem in Afrikaans, and at the same time, you can read it in English! Please Click on the play button!
Love-light
A taper lit in sunlight,
Pale yellow leaf of flame,
An upturned heart that trembled
As soft winds breathed your name,
Its brightness was diluted;
But, when the darkness came,
It shone with such pure brilliance
As put the stars to shame.
Vernon Scannell 
From:Read Me2: A Poem For Every Day of The Year
writing.jpg

BITTERBESSIE DAGBREEK
Ingrid Jonker

Bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son
‘n spieël het gebreek
tusen my en hom

Soek ek na die grootpad
om daarlangs te draf
oral draai die paadjies
van sy woorde af

Dennebos herinnering
dennebos vergeet
het ek ook verdwaal
trap ek in my leed

Papegaai-bont eggo
kierang kierang my
totdat ek bedroë
weer die koggel kry

Eggo is geen antwoord
antwoord hy alom
bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son

On THIS LINK you will find interesting reading about her life! Read HERE more about INGRID JONKER.
ingridjonker.png
 
SONG 

 

 


Another Afrikaans poem of Ingrid…
Madeliefies in Namakwaland
~~~Ingrid Jonker
Waarom luister ons nog
na die antwoorde van die madeliefies
op die wind op die son
wat het geword van die kokkewietjies
Agter die geslote voorkop
waar miskien nog ’n takkie tuimel
van ’n verdrinkte lente
~~~
Agter my gesneuwelde woord
Agter ons verdeelde huis
Agter die hart gesluit teen homself
Agter draadheinings, kampe, lokasies
Agter die stilte waar onbekende tale
val soos klokke by ’n begrafenis
Agter ons verskleurde land
~~~
sit die groen hotnotsgot van die veld
en ons hoor nog verdwaasd
klein blou Namakwaland-madeliefie
iets antwoord, iets glo, iets weet
. 

I had to blog this Afrikaans song of Laurika Rauch as I think the mood suits today’s poems!

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