Gedicht
Ingrid Jonker
ESCAPE
From this Valkenburg have I run awayand in my thoughts return to Gordon’s Bay:
I play with tadpoles swimming free
carve swastikas in a red-krantz tree
I am the dog that slinks from beach to beach
barks dumb-alone against the evening breeze
I am the gull that swoops in famished flights
to serve up meals of long-dead nights
The god who shaped you from the wind and dew
to find fulfilment of my pain in you:
Washed out my body lies in weed and grass
in all the places where we once did pass.
© Translation: 2007, Antjie Krog & André Brink
From: Black Butterflies
Publisher: Human & Rousseau, Cape Town, 2007
From: Black Butterflies
Publisher: Human & Rousseau, Cape Town, 2007
Ontvlugting
Ontvlugting
Uit hierdie Valkenburg het ek ontvlugen dink my nou in Gordonsbaai terug:
Ek speel met paddavisse in \'n stroom
en kerf swastikas in \'n rooikransboom
Ek is die hond wat op die strande draf
en dom-allenig teen die aandwind blaf
Ek is die seevoël wat verhongerd daal
en dooie nagte opdis as \'n maal
Die god wat jou geskep het uit die wind
sodat my smart in jou volmaaktheid vind:
My lyk lê uitgespoel in wier en gras
op al die plekke waar ons eenmaal was.
© 1956, Ingrid Jonker Trust
From: Ontvlugting
Publisher: Culemborg, Cape Town
From: Ontvlugting
Publisher: Culemborg, Cape Town
Gedichten
Gedichten van Ingrid Jonker
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Ontvlugting
Uit hierdie Valkenburg het ek ontvlugen dink my nou in Gordonsbaai terug:
Ek speel met paddavisse in \'n stroom
en kerf swastikas in \'n rooikransboom
Ek is die hond wat op die strande draf
en dom-allenig teen die aandwind blaf
Ek is die seevoël wat verhongerd daal
en dooie nagte opdis as \'n maal
Die god wat jou geskep het uit die wind
sodat my smart in jou volmaaktheid vind:
My lyk lê uitgespoel in wier en gras
op al die plekke waar ons eenmaal was.
From: Ontvlugting
ESCAPE
From this Valkenburg have I run awayand in my thoughts return to Gordon’s Bay:
I play with tadpoles swimming free
carve swastikas in a red-krantz tree
I am the dog that slinks from beach to beach
barks dumb-alone against the evening breeze
I am the gull that swoops in famished flights
to serve up meals of long-dead nights
The god who shaped you from the wind and dew
to find fulfilment of my pain in you:
Washed out my body lies in weed and grass
in all the places where we once did pass.
© 2007, Antjie Krog & André Brink
From: Black Butterflies
Publisher: 2007, Human & Rousseau, Cape Town
From: Black Butterflies
Publisher: 2007, Human & Rousseau, Cape Town
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