(in answer to S. J. Pretorius)
Some people's lives are past
in the time of old age
where they do sit on the porch
and others do plant
flower after flower in the garden,
do admire the beach, the sun and blue sky
at the South Coast,
while others do fear of what lays on the other side,
do tell their families their last wishes,
in the afternoons just after twelve go to lie down
as if they do alone wait on the Judgement Day
without really knowing
how long they are still going to live,
while other do go on adventures,
do travel on boat journeys overseas
and do still strive after bigger things,
while others do regret the lives that they had,
while some in retirement villages do remember
their children and grandchildren,
do trust them to the care of God
but there are others that do not understand life,
who silently do go through life,
in poverty do live in squatter-camps,
or do rest in a huts a in poverty stricken existence
or do live in shacks behind the houses of their children,
do eat dog-pellets where their children drive brand new cars,
do want to forget their current life,
sometimes do avoid contact with other people
and in the winter of life
their courage has forsaken them
and in this season their times are measured out
but still they do forgive others
while on their love they are waiting in vain
and it's as if the grave
does sneak nearer and nearer on each day
and they do yearn for the eternal night
where they do perish without being responsible for it
and daily they do pray to God.
[Reference: "Oud word" (Becoming old) by S. J. Pretorius.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is the forth year where I have been working free of charge as a volunteer at the Springs (Gauteng South Africa) Meals-on-Wheels office which is a welfare organization that does give meals to poor and elderly people as a volunteer where my wife is the manager. I cannot express a moderate view when I do experience the depths of the abyss where I do get involved with old people that do struggle to make a life and this poem is based on the true hard and real facts of life in both Springs and Brakpan in Gauteng South Africa where this branch of Meals-on-Wheels do operate. Currently in South Africa there is many people that are without work, (especially white people) and the others do unfortunately live lives just for themselves. Nothing that I have said is inaccurate and to state this kind of thing does mean that a person has not experienced the harsh realities of life.