There are delicious things just where you look,
some other things are art manufactured by hand,
at the artists I do want to get involved
where I walk past all the stalls
I realize this is how carrots, potatoes and beans should look,
wonder if I would be able to paint,
do notice pancakes and curlers full of syrup and feel compelled to eat something
with milk-cans, watermelons and cantaloupe the Afrikaner is stereotyped
and everyone laughs and it almost looks like a farmer's paradise
where girls, boys, men and women do drink coffee and eat rusks,
some do know each other for years and they do joke
and everyone wants to show something pretty, new and great,
when someone unexpectedly pours me ginger ale for free
where Afrikaners come in a multitude on a sunny open summer day.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem