Om te dig/ To write Poetry

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(English version of poem at bottom of page)

Ek wil dig

van die dag

toe digtery

my gedagtes bevry het.

 

Ek dag ek kan dig,

elke gedagte vaspen,

maar daai een gedagte

sit vas in my pen.

 

Waar dan heen?

Wanneer dan?

Dis waar

wanneer die waarheid uitkom.

 

Soms bly ek staan.

Daar is sommiges, te dig om te verstaan

waaroor ek dig.

So, ek laat staan hulle maar.

 

So ‘n gejaag na wind

wat waai waar hy wil.

Hy waai my

na my wil.

 

Gister het ons nog gedink, gedog,

geweet, maar weer vergeet.

More sal ons weer probeer,

maar dan weet ons nie meer nie…

 

To Write Poetry

I want to write poetry

about the day

poetry

freed my thoughts

 

I thought I could compose,

pin down every thought,

but that one thought

is stuck in my pen.

 

Where to then?

When, then?

It’s true

when the truth comes out.

 

Sometimes I just stand.

There are some, too thick to understand

what I write about.

So, I just leave them standing.

 

All is justΒ a chase after wind

that blows where it will.

It blows me

toward my will.

 

Yesterday we were thinking, we thought,

knew, but then forgot again.

Tomorrow we’ll try again,

but then we won’t know anymore…

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