We met in a restaurant in Pretoria,
maybe it was more a kind of coffeehouse
with the strong scent of roasted coffee
Spanish or maybe South American pasta dishes
and music in a strange language
probably Portuguese or Spanish
of which the words did carry some meaning
and the customers were cosmopolitan,
you suddenly stopped short,
looking for lingering moments at me
as if you know me from somewhere,
coming abruptly to sit at my table
you wanted to read the words that I was writing,
they were magical to you
and rather full of grief
and you smiled, full of confidence,
totally without fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem