Jy behoort aan my, o skone land
die lentebloeisels sluimer nog
waar die heiderosies blom, sag
suisend in hul droom
O jou kleure, mooie blommeprag, word
groetend blom vir blompie toegelag
as die maan opkom oor die velde
my heideland gegroet wees jy
‘n Duisendmaletal, jy is my liefling
dan voel ek so lief vir die wêreld en
die sterretjies skyn in die lug, en ek
weet jy my liefling is terug, my hartlam
Laat my langs die heide wandel, waar langs
boompies en groen weiland nuwe lentebloeisels
blom, elk knikkend met sy koppie, my liefling
slaap langs die silwerstroom
Sy’s ‘n perskeblom, rosigfyn van kleur, maak
jou buiging, vat haar hand, lei nou
heen en weer...
FAK Potpourri Deel II
(Dis seker wat Ophelia sou gesing het in haar
verwarring toe sy verdrink het, in Shakespeare
se 'Hamlet', en Hamlet so liefdevol verklaar
het: "Ophelia, I shall not cry for thee,
thy had too much water...")
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Dying Eventually
Listening to my favourite Internet guru, quite clearly this works for many people as they repeat the jargon flawlessly and I wish I could ge...
-
“This boy’s gonna make it” – ‘n heildronk op my ma, Annemarie: Dit gaan soms broekskeur om met familie klaar te kom want "Famil...
-
Looking for the good, ignoring the sad (anything we dislike), according to Abraham’s (Esther Hick’s) website: “You cannot look at what you ...
-
Found a perfect rendition of the Arabic alphabet on the Internet, trying to remember the letter KHa is pronounced with a guttural G...
No comments:
Post a Comment