At the window a yellow weaver twitters
while in the early morning I long for you,
it sounds to me like a senseless rant
but I notice one hanging upside-down at a nest
and at your window I also want to sing a song of praise,
early when the morning-red appears the first time,
with the dew bring my sincere love to you
and amaze you with depth and beauty.
I see the morning star and moon hanging low,
when dumbfounded I think about you as a woman,
both are so bright and pretty blue-white
while my prayers and thoughts do go to you
and when the morning does swallow the wind,
I do want to embrace you tightly.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem