In that bewitching summer
when we were together, darling,
I remember the beaches stretching out pure white
as if they were drawing roads next to the ocean
and the sun hanging cheerful and golden,
not setting yet at eight o’clock,
the wind sometimes throwing grating sand
against us both
but especially how magical our love had been,
how the fingers of your hands were reaching for me,
the taste of your soft lips under mine,
how perfectly we fitted into each other
and where my life now draws lines in open spaces
I wish that I could draw you deep into my arms.
[Reference: “Uit ons saamwees” (Out of us being together) by Wium van Zyl.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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