Sunday, 25 December 2011

die Verstaan

glimlag, die tee moet bedien word
glimlag, die skaapboud moet gesny word
glimlag, al skeur elke denk-oomblik
nog ‘n stukkie van die hart af

ek glimlag te midde van ‘n stortvloed van seer,
want die-een-wat-verstaan is dood,
en ek het hom vermoor

langs die branders en die goudbruin sand
het ek hom die verstaan gegee, en hy’t dit verorber,
glimlaggend vir my die vertrou teruggegee, toe die son oor die see
met engelegesang opkom

maar later vind ek hom in die badkamer, brakend,
hy jaag my weg met woede en wantrou.
uiteindelik is hy daar dood,
dood tussen my tandeborsel en my seep,
diep en daagliks vertroud het hy vergaan.

ék het hom vermoor, versmoor met die verstaan,
en nou lê sy lyk in die badkamer bo,
terwyl ek hier onder moet glimlag, glimlag, glimlag,
terwyl die hart binne skree, en ween.



UNDERSTANDING

smile, the tea needs to be served
smile, the gammon needs carving
smile, though every thought tears
another part of the heart in tatters

I smile amidst a deluge of sorrow
because the one-who-understands is dead,
and I was the one to murder him.

next to the surf and the sunsoothed sand
I gave him Understanding, and he devoured it.
smilingly, he gave me Trust, as the sun shattered
its rays across the sea, accompanied by angelic song.

but then I found him, vomiting in the bathroom,
chasing me away with wrath and distrust.
in the end he died there, there between toothpaste and soap,
tokens of daily trust deeply held.

it was I who murdered him, smothered him with Understanding,
and now his corpse lies upstairs in the bathroom,
while I, downstairs, must smile and smile and smile,
as the heart within rages and mourns.

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