Tender arms, yesterday
reach out, beyond my prison
they long to embrace me
resurrect the past
passion of dreaming desire.
Secret encounter
I dare not disclose
something fine, beautiful,
something only I know the name.
You tell me truly of your dream
but I long to be
with you in life.
Am illegal rendezvous
concealed in deep
dark African night.
Where talking insects
are only witness
to the passionate
but immoral act.
Black is only
colour of my secret sorrow
my sun tanned skin
is still white,
my eyes are blue.
I’m not like my beloved.
Better to live with my regrets
a self made prison,
than behind someone else’s metal bars.
Written in South Africa 1978
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem