I recently unpacked some boxes that I have stored away in my closet and came across a poetry book that I owned in high school… well I still own it, but you know what I mean…. ANyway, it’s by a woman called Ingrid Jonker and it’s written in my native language (Afrikaans) so I do […]
I recently unpacked some boxes that I have stored away in my closet and came across a poetry book that I owned in high school… well I still own it, but you know what I mean…. ANyway, it’s by a woman called Ingrid Jonker and it’s written in my native language (Afrikaans) so I do appologise if you don’t understand it (will translate for those who care)… It just sums me up so perfectly sometimes…. Tragic.
Ek is die lappop wat nie praat
En maak net op jou liefde staat
Saans le ek blind en stil en doof
En lug nie meer my semel hoof
My hande roer nie en my lyf Word met jou weg gaan koud en styf
Sonder jou hulp kan ek nie loop Jy het my sommer so gekoop
en sal my nog een Guy-Fawkes nag Goedmoeds verbrand en daaroor lag
Ek is die lappop sonder gees
my pyn jou luid gevierde fees….
It’s still as beautiful as it was to me about five years ago, maybe not as relevent but it just sums up a really dark phase of my life. Love it.
