Lauren se lied | Vers-krit * Poem Crit
Posted by: Robin Hawkins | July 7, 2010
Lauren se lied
Ek skulp my hart hier in jou ring
al weet ek al’s is menslik tydelik.
Ek sien daagliks jou uurwerk verder kantel,
tel die klokslae saans soos hul
hul IV-drup so stil stil leegsypel
hier in my agterkamer van gebed.
Maar huil die sal ek kan ek nie.
Ek skulp my hart hier in jou ring.
Die vers na aanleiding van die verlowing van ‘n terminale pasient.
« Die pedagoog, hy wil ‘ie meer.
Op ‘n afstand »
so te min woorde vir iemand wat deur pyn moet gaan. Ek besef dat elke mens se tyd naby is en dis slegs as iemand terminaal moet lei dat ons die tydjie saam hul spandeer en geniet. Om iemand terminaal deur ‘n siekte te verloor is erg genoeg en moet erken die woorde kom vat aan ‘n man. Ons wil nie huil nie net om pyn te wys nie. Moet se ek’s terug gevat na die Beeld van ‘n statige Grandfathers clock
By: oneill11 on March 17, 2011
Wat ‘n pragtige beeld: “ek skulp my hart hier in jou ring”
By: Krokodil on July 12, 2010
Dankie, Krokodil. Ek delwe baie selde in “sentimentele” sake en was dus nogal huiwerig om die begrip aan te pak. Maar die pragtige liefde van die meisie het min keuse gelaat.
By: Robin Hawkins on July 12, 2010
Hey! Dis baie smart boykie! Dis sad maar nice. Dis te bad jy wil nie huil wantditsal baie help. Manse moet ner leer om te huil
By: izette on July 7, 2010
Dis nie ek wat hier praat nie. Dis ‘n ongelooflike dapper vrou.
By: Robin Hawkins on July 7, 2010
Dis goeie reëls. Die pyn van die persoon wat die terminale vrloofde sien wegkwyn is baie sterk en treffend uitgebeeld. Ek dink ook “skulpo my hart in jou ring” is ‘n oorspronklike stelling. Goed gedoen!
By: hofmeyer on July 7, 2010
Dankie Hofmeyer. Ekself hou nogal van die ene.
Hi Robin. Hierdie gedig sit mooi aanmekar en maak ‘n sterk aanspraak op die emosies. Die nota aan die einde dat dit ‘n terminale pasient is help die leser om te verstaan. Die persoon skulp sy hart, anders ;pyn dit te veel. Ontroerend.
By: Buys on July 7, 2010
De Waal, die storie hieragter het my ontsettend opgebeur. Dankie vir die mooi woorde.
Nestled into a corner of a road-curve next to the path I walk every day on my way to work is this tiny little “accidental wetland”. It started off a few years ago as a poorly drained mudpool between two roads, and with time various reeds and other “water-plants” have established themselves and have now become a rather pleasant little wetland populated by quite a range of birds and frogs and things that provide a charming soundtrack to my morning walk. There are hundreds of woven warbler nests and myriad little finches that are just starting to warm their vocal chords as the sun just hints at rising over the buildings, and the symphony of chirps, bleeps and croaks from the invisible frogs just puts a spri8ng in one’s step, no matter how chilly the morning. I find such little pockets of indomitable nature to be such a fount of optimism in an urban sprawl fast being redecorated with plastic shopping bags, acres of glass shards and broken beer bottles and a sprinkling of discarded condoms, with a dash of melted rubber and metal scrap. Not too many miles to the West we have the wasteland that once was the thriving Milnerton wetland, with its now extinct populations of fish, water-fowl and all the various creatures that go with that. That once heavenly spot is now a desolate stretch of dead water, thanks to the over-taxed sewage system that leaches human shit into the water-table. No sign of living fish anymore, and the birds one may see are simply passing through. Yet here, in the middle of urban Bellville, this little Eden has evolved all on its own. Okay, there are no fish, as the “pool” is fed only by a small spring that comes and goes with the rains. But there seem to be a lot of other species slowly moving in, judging from the volume and diversity of sound that one hears as one rushes passed, huddled into coats and beenies as we make our reluctant way to work. Like the cows and goats roaming the open spaces near my home, such glimpses of the green that once was the peninsula give one hope.
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