Constantly I wonder how can I be part of it?
Constantly I wonder how can I be part of it
of a literature in which I read contempt to God,
in which people sing about relationships with the same sex;
use cursing words, the lowest language without fear?
Without Godly protection
even the mightiest fortress will fall
and this beautiful language, Afrikaans
is part of me as a born in thing.
When a great Afrikaans poet then tramples over me,
I know that he is not walking in the steps of God;
honour to the own self, self-elevation
is time and again betrayed by his words.
Still my verses in Afrikaans is holding strong,
while savages are ruling the country and are doing as they seem fit.
poem by Gert Strydom
Added by Poetry Lover
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