Gedicht
Julius Chingono
At the Gate
At the Gate
At the Gate
I had travelled along way
without smelling gunpowder.
You were only a fence
from me, yet far,
for we arrived
when the gate was closed.
No one was going in
no one was coming out.
After a night in the bus
I returned to work
laden with those gifts,
laden with a sore heart.
But I knew
the war closed the gates
but not your heart.
© 199, Julius Chingono
From: Flag of Rags
Publisher: a joint publication by Quartz Press and Hippogriff Press, Johannesburg
From: Flag of Rags
Publisher: a joint publication by Quartz Press and Hippogriff Press, Johannesburg
Gedichten
Gedichten van Julius Chingono
Close
At the Gate
I had travelled along way
without smelling gunpowder.
You were only a fence
from me, yet far,
for we arrived
when the gate was closed.
No one was going in
no one was coming out.
After a night in the bus
I returned to work
laden with those gifts,
laden with a sore heart.
But I knew
the war closed the gates
but not your heart.
From: Flag of Rags
At the Gate
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