Poem
Antjie Krog
MA WILL BE LATE
that I come back to youtired and without memory
that the kitchen door is open I
shuffle in with suitcases hurriedly bought presents
my family’s distressed dreams
slink down the corridor the windows stained
with their abandoned language in the hard
bathroom light I brush my teeth
put a pill on my tongue: Thur
that I walk past where my daughter sleeps
her sheet neatly folded beneath her chin
on the dressing table silkworms rear in gold
that I can pass my sons
frowning like fists against their pillows
their restless undertones bruise the room
that I can rummage a nightie from the drawer
slip into the dark slit behind your back
that the warmth flows across to me
makes me neither poet nor human
in the ambush of breath
I die into woman
© Translation: 2000, Antjie Krog
From: Down to my last skin
From: Down to my last skin
ma sal laat wees
ma sal laat wees
dat ek na julle toe terugkommoeg en sonder herinnering
dat die kombuisdeur oop is ek
inskuifel met tasse haastige presente
in die gange sluip rond my gesin
se verdrieteige drome ruite aangepak
van hulle verlate taal in die harde
badkamerlig borsel ek my tande
druk ‘n pilletjie op my tong: Do.
dat ek verbyloop waar my dogter slaap
haar lakens netjies geplat onder haar ken
op die spieëltafel steier sywurms in goud getoom
dat ek my seuns verby kan kom
fronsend teen kussings aangevuis
hul onrugstige ondertone kneus deur die kamer
dat ek ‘n naghemp vroetel uit die laai
inglip in die donker skreef agter jou rug
dat die warmte na my oorvloei
maak my nog digter nog mens
in die hinderlaag van asem
sneuwel ek tot vrou.
© 2000, Antjie Krog
From: Down to my last skin
Publisher: Random House, South Africa
From: Down to my last skin
Publisher: Random House, South Africa
Poems
Poems of Antjie Krog
Close
MA WILL BE LATE
that I come back to youtired and without memory
that the kitchen door is open I
shuffle in with suitcases hurriedly bought presents
my family’s distressed dreams
slink down the corridor the windows stained
with their abandoned language in the hard
bathroom light I brush my teeth
put a pill on my tongue: Thur
that I walk past where my daughter sleeps
her sheet neatly folded beneath her chin
on the dressing table silkworms rear in gold
that I can pass my sons
frowning like fists against their pillows
their restless undertones bruise the room
that I can rummage a nightie from the drawer
slip into the dark slit behind your back
that the warmth flows across to me
makes me neither poet nor human
in the ambush of breath
I die into woman
© 2000, Antjie Krog
From: Down to my last skin
From: Down to my last skin
MA WILL BE LATE
that I come back to youtired and without memory
that the kitchen door is open I
shuffle in with suitcases hurriedly bought presents
my family’s distressed dreams
slink down the corridor the windows stained
with their abandoned language in the hard
bathroom light I brush my teeth
put a pill on my tongue: Thur
that I walk past where my daughter sleeps
her sheet neatly folded beneath her chin
on the dressing table silkworms rear in gold
that I can pass my sons
frowning like fists against their pillows
their restless undertones bruise the room
that I can rummage a nightie from the drawer
slip into the dark slit behind your back
that the warmth flows across to me
makes me neither poet nor human
in the ambush of breath
I die into woman
© 2000, Antjie Krog
From: Down to my last skin
From: Down to my last skin
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