(with apologies to Louis Esterhuizen)
Far off against the water source
she and her brothers every day finds grief,
for hours they walk along, like bearded angels
tired of the forgetting
and in the afternoons, after finding the apples for the day,
she comes with teeth full of green pieces to me,
she walks with dignity sucking every wet finger
to show proudly how the clinging soot
cannot wash off from her teeth -
Showing exactly how hard she has to bow and walk around,
while she is sucking up
every last drop
and I am waiting, while I have already forgotten.
At first light she comes to say that she is sorry,
I find tears while my darling
is really longing-
For the late afternoon’s thank you, her bouquet is already wilting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great piece put together without difficulty of immersion