I PREPARE A SALAD BEFORE THE EYES OF MY FATHER

i prepare a salad before the eyes of my father
what leaves he asks what grass which small green plovers
quarrel down there in the wetlands of light and grace
he pages through the years, white napkin around his neck
and strides with noble calves through the tops of wild mustard
where the bony blue heads of guinea fowl shift
and the summer evening brown and sweet
sits upon a perch and the arms of the hourglass weed
droop down in the dust in this dale of shadows says my dad
and lifts the dish up in his hands the small golden leaf roller
sits calling in the gully of the bulrush
oh lord enfold me too in the compass of your crucible
make me sweet and hear my song let this green food
be blessed unto our spirit my dad eats leaves
my dad eats grass and speaks in tongues.

EK BEREI ‘N SLAAI VOOR DIE OË VAN MY VADER

EK BEREI ‘N SLAAI VOOR DIE OË VAN MY VADER

ek berei ‘n slaai voor die oë van my vader watse blare
vra hy watse gras watse klein groen kiewiete
krakeel daar onder in die vlei van lig en van genade
hy blaai deur die jare ‘n wit servet om sy nek
en tree met adel kuite deur die toppe van wilde mosterd
waarin die blou kieriekoppe van tarentale roer
en die someravond bruin en soet op die stellasie sit
en die horlosiegras afdraai in die stof in hierdie kuil
van skadu sê my pa en hef die skaal op in sy hande
sit die klein goue blaarvouer in die geul van die palmiet
te pierewiet vou my ook so o heer in u alsontsiende kroes
maak my soet en hoor my lied laat hierdie groen kos,
geseënd wees aan ons gees my pa eet blare
my pa eet gras en praat in tale