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diff --git a/16543-h/16543-h.htm b/16543-h/16543-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9a1962 --- /dev/null +++ b/16543-h/16543-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2872 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Trekkerswee, by J.D. Du Toit (Totius). + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 9em} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em;} + .poem span.i17 {display: block; margin-left: 17em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 18em;} + .poem span.i19 {display: block; margin-left: 19em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Trekkerswee, by J.D (AKA Totius) du Toit + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Trekkerswee + Met tekeninge van J.H. Pierneef + +Author: J.D (AKA Totius) du Toit + +Release Date: August 18, 2005 [EBook #16543] + +Language: Afrikaans + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TREKKERSWEE *** + + + + +Produced by Michael Ciesielski, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>Totius</h1> + +<h1>Trekkerswee</h1> + + + +<h4>Met tekeninge van</h4> +<h3>J.H. Pierneef</h3> + + +<h4>Tafelberg</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 249px;"> +<img src="images/image1.jpg" width="249" height="400" alt="Voorblad" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>INHOUD</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#n_Woord_van_Inleiding">'n Woord van Inleiding</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Silwer_Strale">Silwer Strale</a></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Goue_Gode">Goue Gode</a></td><td align='left'>31</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Groue_Grawe">Groue Grawe</a></td><td align='left'>59</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="n_Woord_van_Inleiding" id="n_Woord_van_Inleiding"></a>'n Woord van Inleiding</h2> + +<p>Die versies verplaas ons bo-op die Rand, ongeveer waar Johannesburg +nou lê. Daar het oom Gert, 'n trekker, met vrou en enigste dogter, +gaan woon. Later kom oom Koos, 'n kolonis, wat in die nabyheid grond +gekoop het. Sy seun Willem raak verlief op Dina, oom Gert se dogter. +Nadat die twee families saam Perdekraal-fees gevier het, gaan Willem +en Dina trou.</p> + +<p>Die tweede versereeks beskrywe die ontdekking van die goudvelde en die +opkoms van Johannesburg, maar ook die verleiding waaraan Willem en +Dina, wat by oom Gert inwoon, blootgestel is en waarvoor hulle beswyk. +Die tweede stuk eindig dan met die groot Boer-Britse oorlog.</p> + +<p>Die derde versereeks verplaas ons in die tyd toe die Unie tot stand +gekom het, en beskryf die treurige einde van oom Gert en Dina.</p> + +<p>Dis die simpele storie waarop die hele gedig gebou is. Ons kan hier +nog byvoeg dat die S.A. Akademie, deur die vrygewigheid van genl. +Hertzog, in staat gestel is om jaarliks 'n milde geldprys vir +letterkundige werke uit te loof. Die prys vir 1915 is aan hierdie +gedig toegeken.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image2.jpg" width="400" height="289" alt="Verlore-klein lê op die Rand / hul huisie in +die trekkersland." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Verlore-klein lê op die Rand / hul huisie in +die trekkersland.</span> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="Silwer_Strale" id="Silwer_Strale"></a>Silwer Strale</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>I</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis heuwels, heuwels, heuwels net<br /></span> +<span>sover 'n mens se oog kan speur;<br /></span> +<span>grasheuwels waar ook riwwe gaan,<br /></span> +<span>met enkele stroompies tussendeur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar is geen hoë berge nie,<br /></span> +<span>want hoog is daar die wêreld self;<br /></span> +<span>en luggies waai daar dun en fris,<br /></span> +<span>of dit stroom uit die blou gewelf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die baie dale en klowe wat<br /></span> +<span>die hoogland kruis en dwars deursny,<br /></span> +<span>bied winterskuiling vir die vee<br /></span> +<span>wat anders al te koud sal kry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En as die eerste rypies val<br /></span> +<span>trek bosveld toe wat kan,<br /></span> +<span>om daar in lekker warrem son<br /></span> +<span>hul winterlaers uit te span.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar somers is dit heerlik op<br /></span> +<span>die Rand; dan lê in sonnegewaad<br /></span> +<span>die heuwels soos ramme te sluimer-slaap<br /></span> +<span>langs strome wat lag en praat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan reën die wolke somaar as<br /></span> +<span>hul swaar skuif oor die hoë land,<br /></span> +<span>en die dak van Transvaal se geute spuit<br /></span> +<span>die water weg na alle kant.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dáár in die hoë wildheid met<br /></span> +<span>sy huppelende heuwelskoon<br /></span> +<span>het jarelank 'n trekker met<br /></span> +<span>sy vrou en kind alleen gewoon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>II</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore-klein lê op die Rand<br /></span> +<span>hul huisie in die trekkersland;<br /></span> +<span>dit is 'n stip net in die wei—<br /></span> +<span>die rietedak en muurtjies van klei.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daarlanges lê die beestekraal,<br /></span> +<span>waar smiddags doodse stilte daal<br /></span> +<span>as kalfies, in die son gebraai,<br /></span> +<span>die vlieë van hul kop lê waai,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>so dom-gerus; en bly-ontsteld<br /></span> +<span>eers opspring as uit ruie veld<br /></span> +<span>die koeie aandraf wat met hul<br /></span> +<span>geloei die awendstond vervul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Bietjie verder van die huis,<br /></span> +<span>waar mielieblare helder ruis<br /></span> +<span>as windgeroer hul sanggeluid<br /></span> +<span>hef bo die dowwe velddreun uit,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>lê laer af, 'n klein vierkant,<br /></span> +<span>die rooi geploegde akkerland<br /></span> +<span>waaruit die boer by goeie jaar<br /></span> +<span>sy mielies, ál sy graan vergaar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Enkele perske, aan die lug<br /></span> +<span>gewénd, dra daar sy goudgeel vrug,<br /></span> +<span>en bied, gedroog, in wintertyd,<br /></span> +<span>'n skaars-verkrygbre soetigheid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit is die plasie wat daar leg,<br /></span> +<span>só rustig in die wydte weg—<br /></span> +<span>'n koninkrykie op homself<br /></span> +<span>waaroor 'n helder hemel welf.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>III</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nou ry 'n ruiter oor die rant.<br /></span> +<span>Die bodeur 's oop al as hy kom;<br /></span> +<span>net die onderdeur se werwel draai<br /></span> +<span>'n vrouehand by die aanklop om.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy groet as sy hom binnelaat,<br /></span> +<span>en vra hom wat sy wense is:<br /></span> +<span>hy moes maar bietjie sit as sy gaan<br /></span> +<span>om pa te sê dat daar mense is.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy skuif verby met mooie buig<br /></span> +<span>en stap met ligte voetstap weg.<br /></span> +<span>Die vreemdeling sien skrams nog net<br /></span> +<span>haar volle wese en hare-vleg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Glimp, 'n glans, 'n gouigheid,<br /></span> +<span>nes of 'n gees verskyn.<br /></span> +<span>Maar nooit sal in sy lewenstyd<br /></span> +<span>dié ligbeeld uit sy siel verdwyn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So half-verleë, asof bespied,<br /></span> +<span>laat sy haar hande strelend gly<br /></span> +<span>oor halme wat in volle saad<br /></span> +<span>hul hooghef aan haar wedersy,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>en saai 'n handvol grassaad heen,<br /></span> +<span>denkend so in verbygaan dat<br /></span> +<span>by seëning van wind en reën,<br /></span> +<span>'n enkele wel sal wortel vat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Intussen kom haar moeder met<br /></span> +<span>'n lekker koppie koffie aan;<br /></span> +<span>sy sit gesels en sien haar kind<br /></span> +<span>al verder na haar man toe gaan.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe lyk dit of die plasie so<br /></span> +<span>allénig in die wêreld leg?<br /></span> +<span>Is daar geen ander plase omheen—<br /></span> +<span>naby en verderweg?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ek sien daar nog geen telegraaf<br /></span> +<span>of kronkelende spoorwegbaan;<br /></span> +<span>geen stofferige heuwelpad<br /></span> +<span>wat na die trekkerswoning gaan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Net oor die werf, met kweek deurwas,<br /></span> +<span>lê duidelik in kronkelspoor—<br /></span> +<span>so loop die mens se voet altyd—<br /></span> +<span>die voetpad na die watervoor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En verder, aan die werf se kant,<br /></span> +<span>juis waar die hoë halme waai,<br /></span> +<span>sien ek 'n tweelingstrepie wat<br /></span> +<span>bevallig deur die velde swaai.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die tweeling-spoortjies, so gering,<br /></span> +<span>met die maanhaar tussenbei,<br /></span> +<span>is die kompas wat trekkersboer<br /></span> +<span>deur skraal bewoonde streke lei.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit is sy seker spoorwegbaan,<br /></span> +<span>meteens sy wisse tel'graaflyn,<br /></span> +<span>waarlanges gaan sy tripp'laar en<br /></span> +<span>sy stadige ossewa-trein.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wanneer die land kom in gevaar,<br /></span> +<span>dan sien jy langs die lyntjies gly<br /></span> +<span>'n wakker stoet van burgers wat<br /></span> +<span>op wakker perdjies ry.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>V</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die moeder kyk maar al weer uit,<br /></span> +<span>die tyd begin nou lank te val;—<br /></span> +<span>daar is haar dogter by haar man,<br /></span> +<span>en ja, daar kom hul al!...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Dag neef! Is dit die oudste seun<br /></span> +<span>van buurman Koos miskien?<br /></span> +<span>Ek het hom so 'n dag of wat<br /></span> +<span>vir die eerste keer gesien."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Oom ja, en pa laat vra om saam<br /></span> +<span>in een geselskap op te trek:<br /></span> +<span>alléén sal ons te vreemd ons voel<br /></span> +<span>op Perdekraal se saamkomplek."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Sê vir jou pa dis goed, my neef.<br /></span> +<span>Kom maar die middag bietjie vroeg,<br /></span> +<span>dan ry ons nog 'n aandskof en<br /></span> +<span>is daar die môre vroeg genoeg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Kyk, daar is Perdekraal,<br /></span> +<span>daar waar die laaste heuwels rys."<br /></span> +<span>Oom buig hom oor die onderdeur<br /></span> +<span>terwyl sy vingers wys.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Wel, oom, dis goed, ons sal so maak."<br /></span> +<span>Dan sal hy ook maar weer vertrek.<br /></span> +<span>Hy gooi die teuels oor sy perd<br /></span> +<span>en ry weer oor dieselfde nek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Bo-op die nek loer hy verlaas<br /></span> +<span>versigtig nog na agter om,<br /></span> +<span>of hy nog iets kan sien, maar nee,<br /></span> +<span>die nôi het nie weer uitgekom!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>o, Die eensaam-huiswaartse rit,<br /></span> +<span>en die eerste gedagtes aan haar!<br /></span> +<span>Dit is die eerste keer dat hy<br /></span> +<span>die uitdraai-paadjie nie gewaar...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy is verdwaald, en dis al aand...<br /></span> +<span>Sy droomgedagte is skielik weg,<br /></span> +<span>maar nou sit hy 'n plan te maak—<br /></span> +<span>wat, tuisgekom, te seg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy mense sit aan tafel as<br /></span> +<span>hy inkom met 'n stram gesig<br /></span> +<span>en kort en goed sy boodskap doen<br /></span> +<span>met oë op sy bord gerig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Maar, Willem," vra sy suster hom,<br /></span> +<span>"wat kom jy dan vanaand so laat?<br /></span> +<span>Het jy heel-middag daar gesels<br /></span> +<span>en so jou tyd verpraat?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ma, hoe lyk Willem vir my so snaaks?<br /></span> +<span>Hy is tog dalk nie doodgegôi<br /></span> +<span>geraak nie in die stilligheid<br /></span> +<span>op die Transvaalse takhaarnôi?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Bly stil!" so sê hy nukk'rig-kort,<br /></span> +<span>"Die oom daar was eers vér opsy,<br /></span> +<span>en by die huistoe-kom het ek<br /></span> +<span>verkeerde pad gery."...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nou word dit langsaam stil aan tafel,<br /></span> +<span>stil word die borde- en messeklank.<br /></span> +<span>Die vader lees 'n stukkie nog,<br /></span> +<span>en sluit met lof en dank.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die donserige maanlig-nag<br /></span> +<span>die daal so sag, so sag<br /></span> +<span>al op die huis en werf en plaas<br /></span> +<span>waar net maar één hou wag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Koos se huisgesin het weer<br /></span> +<span>van werf en werk teruggekeer;<br /></span> +<span>en maanlig-nag lê van sy pluim<br /></span> +<span>op elke oog 'n donse-veer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die mense-gees, vry in sy lug<br /></span> +<span>van onbegrensde wêreldvlug,<br /></span> +<span>keer in die donker liggaamshuis<br /></span> +<span>ook weer terug.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan gaan die deurtjies almal dig;<br /></span> +<span>dan worstel daar by halwe lig<br /></span> +<span>die hart wat waak<br /></span> +<span>en wat die droomwerk moet verrig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Net Willem slaap vannag nie gou.<br /></span> +<span>Hy loer hoe deur sy raampie nou<br /></span> +<span>die maan 'n sagte lig laat val<br /></span> +<span>of buite lag oor trane-dou.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So voel hy hom: weemoedig-bly.<br /></span> +<span>En ook so rein, so rein daarby,<br /></span> +<span>soos maanlig wat met blanke voet<br /></span> +<span>oor pêrels van die dounag gly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>In slaap sink hy dan eind'lik weg;<br /></span> +<span>hy hoor die woord weer wat sy seg;<br /></span> +<span>hy sien haar gaan weer oor die veld;<br /></span> +<span>hy sien ook weer haar harevleg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy slaap duur tot die son hoog skyn,<br /></span> +<span>die maan laag aan die lug verkwyn,<br /></span> +<span>beeld van sy droombeeld wat<br /></span> +<span>nou bleekrig weer verdwyn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>o, Die oggendstond op 'n boereplaas!<br /></span> +<span>Daar trek al op die eerste rook.<br /></span> +<span>Hul het gistraand die vraag beslis<br /></span> +<span>wie se beurt of dit môre is<br /></span> +<span>om ketel te kook.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die môrester het opgegaan;<br /></span> +<span>daarbinne roer al een;<br /></span> +<span>daarbuite bly die rokie draai,<br /></span> +<span>omdat daar nou geen windjie waai<br /></span> +<span>deur vroeë môrewêreld heen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die haan het op sy beuel geblaas;<br /></span> +<span>hy spring al van sy tak;<br /></span> +<span>'n mens sal sê dat hy die baas<br /></span> +<span>(so stap hy) is van werf en plaas,<br /></span> +<span>en die transport dra in sy sak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hom volg sy vriend, die kallekoen,<br /></span> +<span>'n oue towenaar:<br /></span> +<span>hy worstel met sy slange wat<br /></span> +<span>hy nukk'rig teken in die pad<br /></span> +<span>se stof, met duister vlerkgebaar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die kraalvee is al moeg gelê;<br /></span> +<span>hul rek die groot, stram lywe uit.<br /></span> +<span>Daar kom die Kaffer ook al aan<br /></span> +<span>wat koulik oor die douveld gaan<br /></span> +<span>en eers die kalwerhok ontsluit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy emmer ruis van pure musiek,<br /></span> +<span>so vloei dit nou uit volle speen;<br /></span> +<span>musiek ook vir die kalfie als<br /></span> +<span>hy kort-kort om sy moeder wals<br /></span> +<span>op nog onvaste horrelbeen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar kyk hoe staan die osse met<br /></span> +<span>groot oë na die hek te tuur,<br /></span> +<span>totdat die laaste hinderpaal<br /></span> +<span>word uit die mikstok uitgehaal<br /></span> +<span>waaraan hul saans hul lywe skuur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die son gaan op, die vee verdwyn.<br /></span> +<span>Net in die onverstoorbre vert'<br /></span> +<span>'n ossespan stap voor die ploeg,<br /></span> +<span>en agteraan die man wat swoeg<br /></span> +<span>by 'n rukkerige stert.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die môre smelt weer met die dou,<br /></span> +<span>die vrede alleen bly soos dit was.<br /></span> +<span>Net 'n hen spring van haar eiers af<br /></span> +<span>met groot geraas, en die brakhond blaf<br /></span> +<span>vir die enkele kuiergas.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IX</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Binne die huis is dit vandag<br /></span> +<span>nie al te rustig, want<br /></span> +<span>moeder en dogters moet bak en slag<br /></span> +<span>vir die groot fees van die land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En dan—die Kaffers is so baar!<br /></span> +<span>"Daar staan die brood al uitgerys<br /></span> +<span>en die oond is koud! Dis werklik waar,<br /></span> +<span>'n mens moet hul ook alles wys."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"In die ou Kolonie had jy nog<br /></span> +<span>oorlamse skepsels wat gou-gou leer.<br /></span> +<span>Wat het my man met die lang tog<br /></span> +<span>in vredesnaam makeer?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar die dogters staan hul moeder by<br /></span> +<span>met opgestrookte arm:<br /></span> +<span>dit knee die deeg en maak pastei;<br /></span> +<span>en die oond is ook al warm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die jong goed kan nie so ernstig wees<br /></span> +<span>of 'n grap word tussendeur gegôi.<br /></span> +<span>"Hierdie tert is nie vir die fees,<br /></span> +<span>maar vir Willem se takhaarnôi."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Net sluip weer Willem deur die kombuis<br /></span> +<span>langs 'n skemerdonker hoek.<br /></span> +<span>"Willem, wat loop jy so deur die huis<br /></span> +<span>nes 'n hoenderhen wat lêplek soek?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy swyg; verdwyn weer ongemerk;<br /></span> +<span>hy's met die saak verleë:<br /></span> +<span>die vrouens wat die wee bewerk<br /></span> +<span>(so dink hy) spot daarmee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>X</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die tyd van trek die kom weldra.<br /></span> +<span>Daar gaan oom Koos se ossewa,<br /></span> +<span>blou-bont geskilder; hoor hoe raas<br /></span> +<span>die wiele op pad na oom Gert se plaas.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Al dadelik van die staanplek af<br /></span> +<span>dril die osse-lywe soos hul draf.<br /></span> +<span>Die vrouens roep: hul skud uit lid,<br /></span> +<span>só ruk en rammel dit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hôi, Willem, hou nou op met klap!<br /></span> +<span>Wat wil jy?... Laat die osse stap."<br /></span> +<span>So roep oom. "Watter haas is daar?<br /></span> +<span>Die middagson sit nog wie weet waar."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit help so effentjies, maar dan<br /></span> +<span>praat Willem weer bo die rooibont span,<br /></span> +<span>en die ossedier, so stroef en stil,<br /></span> +<span>voel gou-gou wat sy drywer wil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So kort-kort teen 'n opdraand blyf<br /></span> +<span>die kettingtou nog taamlik styf,<br /></span> +<span>maar anderkant-af swaai dit somaar slap<br /></span> +<span>as die osse weer raak uit maat en stap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hul is te veel, maar oom wil tog<br /></span> +<span>ook bietjie met sy beeste spog.<br /></span> +<span>En dan, dis so armoedig om<br /></span> +<span>met so 'n paartjies daar te kom;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>dáár by die plaas, daar by die fees<br /></span> +<span>waar soveel mense saam sal wees.—<br /></span> +<span>Oom Gert se plasie haal<br /></span> +<span>hul as die son nog wakker straal.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ek hoor van vreemde lente melde<br /></span> +<span>as sangtyd wat genaak,<br /></span> +<span>wanneer die voëls in bome-velde<br /></span> +<span>singend hul nessies maak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar hier's geen sang in hoë twyge<br /></span> +<span>as skat van lentetyd,<br /></span> +<span>maar oral diep en ernstig swyge<br /></span> +<span>van velde kaal en wyd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ek hoor van vreemde lente melde<br /></span> +<span>as tyd van blommegeur,<br /></span> +<span>wanneer veldblommetjies die velde<br /></span> +<span>versier met tint en kleur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar hier bloei hul in klein alleenheid,<br /></span> +<span>in aarde dor en vas;<br /></span> +<span>by ons is dit àl golwende eenheid<br /></span> +<span>van velde enkel gras.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Só stil eenvoudig in sy worde,<br /></span> +<span>so sonder klank of praal,<br /></span> +<span>kom hier die lente in ryp-verdorde<br /></span> +<span>geweste neergedaal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Tog is ons lief sy eerste sprietjies,<br /></span> +<span>die grassies aan ons voet;<br /></span> +<span>tog leer dit ons weer nuwe liedjies<br /></span> +<span>van taaiheid en van moed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So het eenselfde lentelewe,<br /></span> +<span>eenvoudig, diep en waar,<br /></span> +<span>twee stille wesens sag omswewe—<br /></span> +<span>vir Willem en vir haar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar was geen danse of sangerskore,<br /></span> +<span>geen klank of kleure-gloed;<br /></span> +<span>net liefde stil dié dag gebore<br /></span> +<span>by simple boere-groet—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nog gaan in droomnag stil sy skrede<br /></span> +<span>na simple boerehuis;<br /></span> +<span>oom Gert se plasie is sy Eden—<br /></span> +<span>sover haar voete ruis.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die kalwerhok is dan die plekkie<br /></span> +<span>waar hy so graag sou staan<br /></span> +<span>om, loerend deur die klipkraal-hekkie,<br /></span> +<span>haar heeldag ga te slaan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En nou ... hy kan dit skaars gelowe,<br /></span> +<span>sien hy haar wese weer,<br /></span> +<span>net soos 'n lenteson daarbowe<br /></span> +<span>skaamrooierig en teer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En nou ... sy gaan met hulle same,<br /></span> +<span>sit op die voorste wa,<br /></span> +<span>terwyl hy roep die osse-name<br /></span> +<span>met sweepslag agterna.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En nou ... hy sien haar liewe kappie,<br /></span> +<span>gestik van enkel sis.<br /></span> +<span>En straks ... doen hy 'n klein vriendskappie<br /></span> +<span>as hul gelaer is.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vuurtjie brand<br /></span> +<span>hoog langs die heuwelrif.<br /></span> +<span>Die duisternis bedek die land,<br /></span> +<span>maar dis 'n duisternis waardeur<br /></span> +<span>die maan se melkies sif.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vlamme dans<br /></span> +<span>vrolik in vuurge kring.<br /></span> +<span>Die mense sit 'n krans<br /></span> +<span>en luister swygend na<br /></span> +<span>die keteltjie wat sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit is die trekkersboer<br /></span> +<span>se late lied wat wek<br /></span> +<span>sy hart en diep hom roer.<br /></span> +<span>Dit is sy vroeë môresang<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hy verder trek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Geen dans in woel'ge saal,<br /></span> +<span>geen lied van danseres<br /></span> +<span>bied hom 'n blye onthaal<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hy eensaam is—<br /></span> +<span>geen drank uit volle fles.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy vlamme dans en spring<br /></span> +<span>al rond die ketel-boom;<br /></span> +<span>sy ketel praat en sing<br /></span> +<span>en skink hom in die drank<br /></span> +<span>wat die ure laat verdroom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy keteltjie is swart<br /></span> +<span>al in sy diens gebrand:<br /></span> +<span>die trooster van sy smart<br /></span> +<span>die bly hom trou wanneer<br /></span> +<span>hy soek 'n vaderland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die spoor lê oral in<br /></span> +<span>die ronde hopies as;<br /></span> +<span>en telkens as die dag begin<br /></span> +<span>dan swaai dit by die voorwiel, met<br /></span> +<span>'n voorslag-riempie vas.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vlamme dans<br /></span> +<span>nou rond in vuurge kring.<br /></span> +<span>Die mense sit 'n krans<br /></span> +<span>en luister swygend na<br /></span> +<span>die keteltjie wat sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hul aandag span<br /></span> +<span>nog meer wanneer oom Gert<br /></span> +<span>vertel die storie van<br /></span> +<span>Hendrik en Lettie en<br /></span> +<span>hoe gou hul twee geskeie werd.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XIV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hul twee is lammers van een jaar,<br /></span> +<span>hul huppel op een werf,<br /></span> +<span>tot arm sy vader trek vandaar<br /></span> +<span>en swerf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Beloftewoord, en dan niks meer.<br /></span> +<span>En ... harte in pyn en hoop,<br /></span> +<span>wyl ryke minnaars kom maar weer<br /></span> +<span>om haar hart te koop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Die jaartal skuif so traag.<br /></span> +<span>Gerug van sonde tot haar kom.<br /></span> +<span>Totdat hy bewend waag...<br /></span> +<span>hy is weerom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hul leed blyk dan 'n wolk so rein.<br /></span> +<span>Op huweliksdag<br /></span> +<span>'n soete oorwinningsvrede skyn<br /></span> +<span>in purperprag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Maar—die oorlogswoord roep haastig rond.<br /></span> +<span>'Ag, Hendrik, hoe's ons droom so kort!'—<br /></span> +<span>Liefs kort gedroom, as Britse grond<br /></span> +<span>en slawe word.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Sy swyg. Sy perdjie huppel al<br /></span> +<span>na Laingsnek weg.<br /></span> +<span>Hy sink met wein'ge in Natal<br /></span> +<span>om ver te veg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Dis duisternis en stille nag.<br /></span> +<span>'My vriend, ek sterf by die eerste lig,'—<br /></span> +<span>so spreek hy sag,<br /></span> +<span>'maar Lettie wag haar eerste wig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'Laat sy my verre graf hom wys<br /></span> +<span>en eewge trou laat sweer.'<br /></span> +<span>Hy sterf—die dure prys<br /></span> +<span>van vaderland en eer.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"'n Moeder veeg haar trane af.<br /></span> +<span>'n Kinderhand die kransie hou.<br /></span> +<span>Hul staan voor 'n gesonke graf.<br /></span> +<span>Dit was die eerste daad van trou."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><br /></span> +<span>Die nag is heen, die môre is grys;<br /></span> +<span>'n plaat van tente en waens wys<br /></span> +<span>waar Perdekraal se steenhoop rys<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> teen hoë hange.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar staan hul aan die grond gepénd<br /></span> +<span>die geweltjies so mooi orent—<br /></span> +<span>die eie maaksels, tent aan tent,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> in suiwer range.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>o Trekkersvolk, my hart ontgloei!<br /></span> +<span>Ek sien hoe jul die vreemde boei<br /></span> +<span>verbreek het, om dan uit te bloei<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> tot eie nasie.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nie net 'n eie vaderland,<br /></span> +<span>nie net 'n eie vlag geplant,<br /></span> +<span>maar àlles maak van eie hand—<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> geen imitasie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe lê die tentseil, baan aan baan.<br /></span> +<span>Hoe wakker bly die nokke staan.<br /></span> +<span>Die klappies netjies oopgeslaan—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">mooi eenheid same.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy staan daar by die wa se as,<br /></span> +<span>die huis van doek, so lossies-vas,<br /></span> +<span>skoon nes in môredou gewas—<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> 'n blanke dame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Twee lang wit kappe in die veld:<br /></span> +<span>'n wa en tent daarnaas gesteld,<br /></span> +<span>tweeheid tot eenheid saamgesmelt<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> in sware stonde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die wa—'n sterke man is hy;<br /></span> +<span>die tent—'n taaie vrou is sy.<br /></span> +<span>Jul het die nasie uitgelei,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> sy boei's ontbonde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Lig op haar voet net soos die ree<br /></span> +<span>en trekkend met die trekker mee<br /></span> +<span>bied sy hom tog 'n vaste stee<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> in angs-geweste:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>as wolkbreuk beuk die witte wand,<br /></span> +<span>die sonstrale op die nokke brand<br /></span> +<span>of nagdier sluip oor donker land,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> 'n veil'ge veste.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En as sy wa nie verder dring,<br /></span> +<span>hoor ek by wind haar fladdering<br /></span> +<span>die lied van boerbeskawing sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> stemmig-tevrede.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan word haar seile trou bewaar:<br /></span> +<span>by feesdag net span sy 'n laer<br /></span> +<span>en straal haar seile dankbaar daar<br /></span> +<span class="i6"> van groot verlede.<br /></span> +<span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XVI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert en Koos die sluit hul waens<br /></span> +<span>vas aanmekaar aan die buitekant<br /></span> +<span>en in 'n lyn met al die waens<br /></span> +<span>wat reeds in rye staan geskaar<br /></span> +<span>uit die omtrek van die Rand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die lang grys wasems van die nag<br /></span> +<span>lê soos 'n slangrug in die dal;<br /></span> +<span>dit is die misdamp van die reën<br /></span> +<span>wat in Desember langs die Rand<br /></span> +<span>oorvloedig val.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar in die miswolk dryf die kiem<br /></span> +<span>van perdesiekte, sê hul, rond,<br /></span> +<span>maar mens en bees, waarvoor die Heer<br /></span> +<span>die nuwe land gemaak het, is<br /></span> +<span>gesond.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Reg-bo die vuurtjies van die laer<br /></span> +<span>styg stil omhoog die ligblou walm,<br /></span> +<span>en nou die son weer op wil gaan,<br /></span> +<span>styg uit 'n tent nog hier en daar<br /></span> +<span>'n laaste psalm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die osse word al losgemaak<br /></span> +<span>en veld toe aangejaag;<br /></span> +<span>'n Kaffer stap hul agterna<br /></span> +<span>wat aan 'n stok sy velskoene en<br /></span> +<span>'n haarge knapsak draag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Enkele hamerslag weerklink<br /></span> +<span>van die wat laat kom, maar<br /></span> +<span>die meeste burgers is gereed<br /></span> +<span>en staan die landsaak te bespreek<br /></span> +<span>in klompies bymekaar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vrouens maak die brekfis al—<br /></span> +<span>die tweede ketel sing;<br /></span> +<span>hul loop tent in tent uit en koes<br /></span> +<span>gramstorig vir die braaivleis-rook<br /></span> +<span>wat trane in hul oë bring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Straks gaan hul, of dit kerk is, in<br /></span> +<span>hul Sondagspak geklee<br /></span> +<span>na die vermaarde steenhoop heen;<br /></span> +<span>'n ieder neem sy kerkboek en<br /></span> +<span>sy riempies-stoeltjie mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die predikant laat sing; hy lees<br /></span> +<span>en hou 'n nasionale preek.<br /></span> +<span>Dan vra hy ook nog vir oom Gert<br /></span> +<span>wat oral saamgetrek het, om<br /></span> +<span>die landgenote toe te spreek:<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XVII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"My landgenote, julle weet<br /></span> +<span>hul het in Kaapland, vroeg en laat,<br /></span> +<span>'n valse vryheidsleer verkondig;<br /></span> +<span>jul weet die Kafferbendes het<br /></span> +<span>met roof en moord en skelmery,<br /></span> +<span>die grensbewoners daar versondig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ons het getrek, eers na Natal,<br /></span> +<span>tot aan die see wat vir ons was<br /></span> +<span>'n tweede en wilder Onbekende;<br /></span> +<span>maar nooit het trekkers moed of lus<br /></span> +<span>gehad om na die wildernis<br /></span> +<span>hul dapper trekkersvoet te wende.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hul het daar deur die duinsand heen<br /></span> +<span>hul waens gedryf, en tot vandag<br /></span> +<span>staan daar die boerenaam geskrywe.<br /></span> +<span>Ons vyande 't ons daar gevind,<br /></span> +<span>ons uit-oorlê of aangeval,<br /></span> +<span>en uit dié Kanan weer verdrywe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ons laat aan Kaffervolk en Brit<br /></span> +<span>die mooiste deel van Afrika<br /></span> +<span>wat slinger langs die strande.<br /></span> +<span>Ons het gekies, om vrede vir<br /></span> +<span>ons voet te vind, die wildernis<br /></span> +<span>en altyd skraler binnelande.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"God het ons eers gelouter en<br /></span> +<span>laat wraak neem op Dingaan<br /></span> +<span>se duisternis van Soeloe-horde,<br /></span> +<span>dat ons daar in die nuwe land,<br /></span> +<span>nes uit 'n smeltkroes voortgekom,<br /></span> +<span>'n Gode-dankbaar volk sou worde.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"En later toe die Engelsman<br /></span> +<span>ons weer gedreig het en gedruk,<br /></span> +<span>het ons die steenhoop dáár vergader.<br /></span> +<span>Hier van Transvaal se hoogaltaar<br /></span> +<span>het ons ons harte opgehef<br /></span> +<span>tot God Almagtig, onse Vader.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Jul weet hoe God gered het. Dink<br /></span> +<span>aan Laingsnek, aan Ingogo en<br /></span> +<span>aan Amajuba's hoë kranse.<br /></span> +<span>Wee ons as ons weer God vergeet,<br /></span> +<span>soos Israel by Sinaï,<br /></span> +<span>met wilde afgodsdanse!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Dan sal die steenhoop ons verkla.<br /></span> +<span>Ek roep tot my getuie aan<br /></span> +<span>die hemel en die heuwelrande!<br /></span> +<span>Dan sal ons hiér moet kerm en klaag,<br /></span> +<span>en rondom hiérdie heil'ge plek<br /></span> +<span>die tekens sien van al ons skande!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XVIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die fees het weer verbygegaan—<br /></span> +<span>na alkant sien mens waens, soos<br /></span> +<span>die boere in klompies weer vertrek...<br /></span> +<span>Hoe wakker staan die swepe-ry!<br /></span> +<span>hoe daal hul, en die voorslag klap<br /></span> +<span>om die osselywe op te wek!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nie lank nie of daar is weer fees;<br /></span> +<span>nou in oom Gert se huisie, waar<br /></span> +<span>Willem en Dina samestaan...<br /></span> +<span>Voordat die mense skei, vra nog<br /></span> +<span>die predikant dat hul sal hoor<br /></span> +<span>hoe hierdie bruilofsliedjie gaan:<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XIX</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruidegom</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is 'n boerebruidegom<br /></span> +<span>wat uit die ou Kolonie kom.<br /></span> +<span>Ek is geen kind nie van die Trek,<br /></span> +<span>maar my hart sit op die regte plek;<br /></span> +<span>daarom het ek my vasgebind<br /></span> +<span>aan 'n egte, egte trekkerskind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruid</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is die egte boerebruid,<br /></span> +<span>uit die egte takhaarwêreld uit.<br /></span> +<span>Maar ek kon my tog so goed gedra<br /></span> +<span>dat 'n kolonis my hand kom vra!<br /></span> +<span>Ja, die ou Transvaal is nie so sleg<br /></span> +<span>as wat die mense dink en seg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruidegom</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is 'n boerebruidegom<br /></span> +<span>wat met my ganse rykdom kom.<br /></span> +<span>Ek het geen geld nie op die bank;<br /></span> +<span>maar het 'n wa met suiwer klank,<br /></span> +<span>twaalf rooies, jukke en rieme klaar,<br /></span> +<span>en ek makeer nog net vir haar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruid</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is maar net 'n boerebruid,<br /></span> +<span>en gee my vir niks anders uit;<br /></span> +<span>geen jongman hoef hom te vergis,<br /></span> +<span>want ek is net maar wat ek is.<br /></span> +<span>Maar 'k het twee arrems, rond en sterk,<br /></span> +<span>wat regstaan vir die huishou-werk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruidegom</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is 'n boerebruidegom<br /></span> +<span>wat net maar na die bruilof kom<br /></span> +<span>met stewels, en ook net dan dra<br /></span> +<span>die laken-pak en keil van pa.<br /></span> +<span>Anders is hul my lyf te veel<br /></span> +<span>en is dit velskoen en ferweel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruid</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is maar net 'n boerebruid.<br /></span> +<span>Ek dra 'n kappie met 'n tuit.<br /></span> +<span>Ek knip die tabberds wat ek dra—<br /></span> +<span>maar bietjie mooier!—moeder ná.<br /></span> +<span>Net die één waar ek vandag mee loop<br /></span> +<span>het vader by die smous gekoop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruidegom</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is 'n boerebruidegom<br /></span> +<span>wat met lees en syfer klaar kan kom,<br /></span> +<span>en die kaart ken van Suid-Afrika<br /></span> +<span>wat ek daarso in my koppie dra.<br /></span> +<span>Wat anderkant die water, in<br /></span> +<span>die wêreld is, raak my maar min.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Bruid</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek is maar net 'n boerebruid,<br /></span> +<span>ek laat nie my geleerdheid uit.<br /></span> +<span>As hul oor politiek begin<br /></span> +<span>dan luister ek en hou my in.<br /></span> +<span>Maar 'k sal my kinders eendag wel<br /></span> +<span>die storie van Transvaal vertel!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image3.jpg" width="400" height="290" alt="Bo-op die grond rys al 'n stad / wat op die +heuwels skitter-blink." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Bo-op die grond rys al 'n stad / wat op die +heuwels skitter-blink.</span> +</div> + + + + +<h2><a name="Goue_Gode" id="Goue_Gode"></a>Goue Gode</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>I</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis heuwels, heuwels, heuwels net<br /></span> +<span>sover 'n mens se oog kan speur;<br /></span> +<span>dis of voorheen 'n monsterploeg<br /></span> +<span>die wêreld hier wou stukkend skeur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ja, God se ploeg het hier geloop<br /></span> +<span>in wentelkrag van vloed en vuur<br /></span> +<span>toe heel die hoogland omgekeer<br /></span> +<span>is in die aard' se wordings-uur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die reuse-sooi van daardie ploeg<br /></span> +<span>'n berg was of 'n hoë rand;<br /></span> +<span>en elke voor daaragter was<br /></span> +<span>'n vrugbre moot of akkerland.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>God se almagtige Hand het toe<br /></span> +<span>daaroor gegaan met groot geswaai,<br /></span> +<span>sodat 'n ganse goudveld is<br /></span> +<span>in die aard se boesem uitgesaai.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daarna het Hy die eeugety<br /></span> +<span>stil oor sy akkerveld laat duur,<br /></span> +<span>sonder dat een die geelblink vrug<br /></span> +<span>versamel in sy voorraadskuur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Geen Babilon se reusebeeld<br /></span> +<span>is uit die goudsaad saamgesmelt;<br /></span> +<span>geen wêreldstad se grootheid het<br /></span> +<span>geskitter oor die heuwelveld.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Net Kaffervoete 't daar gegaan<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hul hordes vlug of veg;<br /></span> +<span>en die ondier het gelaer waar<br /></span> +<span>die skatte van die wêreld leg.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>II</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die taal van berge en rante is oud.<br /></span> +<span>Ek sien die letters voor my staan,<br /></span> +<span>die skeure omlaag, die kranse omhoog;<br /></span> +<span>maar dis 'n skrif wat nooit vergaan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die taal is geskrywe met letters<br /></span> +<span>van kranse en klowe en rif;<br /></span> +<span>dit lê oop en bloot op die wande, ...<br /></span> +<span>maar niemand ontraadsel die skrif.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die kranse en klowe is woorde<br /></span> +<span>tot reuse-sinne vereen,<br /></span> +<span>en die stippels en strepe daartussen<br /></span> +<span>is tot massas rotse versteen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit is die taal van skeppings-dae,<br /></span> +<span>die taal ook van die sondvloed-tyd,<br /></span> +<span>waarby die late mens verbysterd<br /></span> +<span>staan klae van onwetendheid...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Spreek daardie taal van hoë waters<br /></span> +<span>teen hoë bergwand uitgeslaan,<br /></span> +<span>en van opdrifsels eeue later<br /></span> +<span>tot kransversténing oorgegaan?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Of spreek die taal van vuur se werking,<br /></span> +<span>van vreselike wêreldbrand<br /></span> +<span>toe berggevaartes op kom rys het<br /></span> +<span>uit die aard se vuurge ingewand?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die sleutel van pylskrif-figure<br /></span> +<span>en hiërogliewe is gevind;<br /></span> +<span>maar hier staan al die wyse same<br /></span> +<span>onwetend soos 'n kind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So swyg ook stil die Rand se rante.<br /></span> +<span>Ja, die skeppingstaal is al te oud!...<br /></span> +<span>Of spreek hier gryse lettermerke<br /></span> +<span>miskien al lank die woord van: Goud?...<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>III</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Nou loop 'n loper oor die Rand<br /></span> +<span>wat rooi is in sy aangesig;<br /></span> +<span>hy sien niks van die skone land,<br /></span> +<span>maar hou sy oog omlaag gerig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Kaffer sukkel agter hom<br /></span> +<span>en dra sy loodswaar pak:<br /></span> +<span>'n vysel, stamper, pikswart kom<br /></span> +<span>met goeters in 'n goiingsak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoor! dis geen vooros-klok gewis<br /></span> +<span>wat lui op die anders stille Rand!<br /></span> +<span>Die klankgeluid is anders, dis<br /></span> +<span>die stamper op die vyselkant.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Bo stugge rots—nog nooit getref<br /></span> +<span>as deur die slag van donderweer—<br /></span> +<span>word nou die hamer opgehef<br /></span> +<span>en mokerslag daal dreunend neer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die rots word gruis; die gruis word stof;<br /></span> +<span>die wasbak spoel dit om en om,<br /></span> +<span>en delwers-oog speur rust'loos of<br /></span> +<span>die goud-en ysterstrepie kom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar is dit! en hoe bly is hy!<br /></span> +<span>Die goud-aar is oplaas geraak...<br /></span> +<span>Die outa sien 'n os wat wei,<br /></span> +<span>en dink: "Hoe lekker sal hy smaak."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die rots word nog 'n keer gestamp ...<br /></span> +<span>en in die spoelkom omgewas.<br /></span> +<span>Die delwer gaan dan na sy kamp ...<br /></span> +<span>sy dienaar hurk daar by sy las.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ons sien nou weer die loper loop.<br /></span> +<span>'n Tolk en hy het keer op keer<br /></span> +<span>met omhaalwoorde geprobeer<br /></span> +<span>of hul oom Gert se plaas kan koop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert was na Pretoria:<br /></span> +<span>hy het hom met sy sorg gewénd<br /></span> +<span>na die vaderlike president,<br /></span> +<span>en dié het hom geantwoord: Ja.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar ag, oom Gert se hart is swaar<br /></span> +<span>as hy weer kom die bultveld oor;<br /></span> +<span>daarbinne moet hy almaar hoor<br /></span> +<span>'n stem so lastig, so onklaar:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"My plasie is my Nabots-erf<br /></span> +<span>wat met sy weiveld wiegel oor<br /></span> +<span>die Rand. Moet ek dit nou verloor<br /></span> +<span>vir Agabs, om dan rond te swerf?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Gewetenstem naas lotgeval!<br /></span> +<span>Die stem is Jakobs stemklank, maar<br /></span> +<span>die lewenslot 's die Esaus-haar,<br /></span> +<span>en ek is blind soos Isak al!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So het hy lank gepeins, gewag,<br /></span> +<span>tot hy oplaas dink: "Laat maar gaan."<br /></span> +<span>Hul bied hom tweemaal duisend aan,<br /></span> +<span>en daarmee is die koop volbrag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert maak nog sy saak gewis:<br /></span> +<span>hy vra net goudgeld en kontant,<br /></span> +<span>en dat sy eie predikant<br /></span> +<span>sal tel of hulle almal is.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>V</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>o Heilige nagte van voorheen<br /></span> +<span>as die maanlig skaars in die huisie dring,<br /></span> +<span>waar oom Gert lê waak, soos die psalmis sing,<br /></span> +<span>om te peins oor God,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>die nagte nog lank, na skeppings-maak,<br /></span> +<span>deur geen kunsglans nog verkort;<br /></span> +<span>as die mens nog tyd het om wakker te word<br /></span> +<span>en te peins oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vetkers het maar kort gebrand<br /></span> +<span>om te lig oor die oue Skriftuur<br /></span> +<span>wat die stof bied in die vroeë uur<br /></span> +<span>om te peins oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die siel doen soos die blomkelk dan<br /></span> +<span>wat die blaartjies sluit by nag,<br /></span> +<span>en stil-alleen op die son staan wag—<br /></span> +<span>so peins die siel oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dit doen net soos die voël by nag,<br /></span> +<span>wat die vlerk nie vliegend meer wil strek,<br /></span> +<span>maar die koppie in die dons gaan dek—<br /></span> +<span>so peins die siel oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis doen en doen en nog eens doen,<br /></span> +<span>totdat uit hoër, heil'ger oord<br /></span> +<span>verruis die saalge stemmingswoord—<br /></span> +<span>as die siel stil peins oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Totdat 'n ligstraal na benee<br /></span> +<span>val in die oog omhooggehou,<br /></span> +<span>en die siel dan weer sy God aanskou—<br /></span> +<span>terwyl dit peins oor God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan voel dit weer aan wyding ryk<br /></span> +<span>en beef stil opwaarts-heen<br /></span> +<span>met groot verlange om nog<br /></span> +<span>oor God te peins.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar ag, nóú is oom Gert vol sorg,<br /></span> +<span>en sy bed is vuur onder hom:<br /></span> +<span>'n ander god het daar gekom,<br /></span> +<span>en die naam van die god is: Goud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Voorheen was in oom Gert se huis<br /></span> +<span>'n sjieling net so skaars te kry<br /></span> +<span>as in 'n bedelaar se kluis—<br /></span> +<span>en tog was daar geen armoed' by.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert se huis kos hom geen geld:<br /></span> +<span>hy't self die muurtjies opgetrek,<br /></span> +<span>die gras gesny op eie veld,<br /></span> +<span>en toe met eie hand gedek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die hout was geelhout wat gesaag<br /></span> +<span>is in die Houtbosbergse kuil,<br /></span> +<span>vandaar met moeite uitgedraag<br /></span> +<span>en oral in die land verruil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy meubels is van eie maak,<br /></span> +<span>en wie daarop gaan sit die voel:<br /></span> +<span>dit is geen goed na vreemde smaak,<br /></span> +<span>maar boer se eie bank en stoel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wat op sy tafel kom is uit<br /></span> +<span>sy eie tuin of uit sy kraal—<br /></span> +<span>daar's brood en melk, daar's boerbeskuit<br /></span> +<span>en vleis, dit is die sober maal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hul klere kies hul so gering,<br /></span> +<span>dat hoë ruil nie nodig is.<br /></span> +<span>Die smouse het dit rondgebring:<br /></span> +<span>ferweel en tabberdgoed en sis.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ja, geld was skaars en goud was min,<br /></span> +<span>maar min ook die onrus en gebrek;<br /></span> +<span>daar was geen ryke of arme in<br /></span> +<span>die land, niks wat die onrus wek.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe het die wêreld nou gedraai!<br /></span> +<span>Hoe word oom Gert se vrees gewek!<br /></span> +<span>Hy sien sy goed al opgelaai<br /></span> +<span>en hoe sy wa weer noordwaarts trek.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Kom kinders, ons moet trek,<br /></span> +<span>want hier kan ons nie bly;<br /></span> +<span>as ons hier langer bly,<br /></span> +<span>sal hulle ons weer kry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek het my grond so lief,<br /></span> +<span>my vrye plaas en werf.<br /></span> +<span>Vir hierdie plaas en werf<br /></span> +<span>het ek voorheen geswerf.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Kom kinders, ons moet trek,<br /></span> +<span>dit is die boer se plan,<br /></span> +<span>en daar's geen ander plan.<br /></span> +<span>Laat almal trek wat kan!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ag, vader, moenie trek,"<br /></span> +<span>sê Dina, "laat ons bly,<br /></span> +<span>want waar ons trek of bly,<br /></span> +<span>sal hul ons tog weer kry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ons kan nie immer trek,<br /></span> +<span>ons kan nie immer vlug,<br /></span> +<span>saam met die wild wegvlug<br /></span> +<span>vir mensgerug.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ons woon al lank so stil;<br /></span> +<span>laat ons nou maar geniet,<br /></span> +<span>met eerbaarheid geniet<br /></span> +<span>van wat die wêreld bied."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wat sal oom Gert nou doen<br /></span> +<span>om die onheil af te weer<br /></span> +<span>as Dina haar verweer,<br /></span> +<span>met sagte woord hom keer?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ek voel 'n ding wat kom,<br /></span> +<span>my binneste die werk<br /></span> +<span>net soos die miertjies werk<br /></span> +<span>wat verweg storm bemerk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Nou ja, ons sal hier bly,<br /></span> +<span>op die uithoek van die plaas,<br /></span> +<span>van die ons ontvalle plaas<br /></span> +<span>maar vér van stadsgeraas."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Bo-op die grond rys al 'n stad<br /></span> +<span>wat op die heuwels skitter-blink;<br /></span> +<span>dit was 'n reeks van kampe eers,<br /></span> +<span>getimmer uit hout en sink;<br /></span> +<span>maar nou 'n wêreldstad meteen,<br /></span> +<span>en massas delwers trek daarheen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert het so iets nooit gesien:<br /></span> +<span>die suiwer lug is troebel-vuil,<br /></span> +<span>en helder stroompies van weleer<br /></span> +<span>dam nou in donker modderkuil.<br /></span> +<span>Die grond voorheen so skoon en rooi<br /></span> +<span>is nou met steenkool-as bestrooi.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Al bo die stad, en verder, sweef<br /></span> +<span>'n swart-deurrookte deins'righeid;<br /></span> +<span>dit lyk net soos 'n veldvuur wat<br /></span> +<span>hom uitsprei oor die velde wyd.<br /></span> +<span>En saans dan slaan 'n rooi gegloor<br /></span> +<span>soos veldbrand al die heuwels oor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>In boeredorpe het hul eers<br /></span> +<span>'n kerk gestig op wye plein,<br /></span> +<span>waarom vergader, hier en daar,<br /></span> +<span>die grasdak-huisies, laag en klein.<br /></span> +<span>Maar nou word eers, en wondergou,<br /></span> +<span>'n groot hotel daar opgebou.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar is geen Son- of Maandag meer;<br /></span> +<span>dit vleg en kronkel deurmekaar,<br /></span> +<span>en saans, nog lank na middernag,<br /></span> +<span>het die gewoel nog nie bedaar.<br /></span> +<span>Die wêreld maak oom Gert nou dom<br /></span> +<span>wat selde in die stad meer kom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En as hy in die sonlig sien<br /></span> +<span>hoedat die stad lê flikker-beef,<br /></span> +<span>of saans bemerk die dof-rooi gloed<br /></span> +<span>wat opwaarts na die hemel streef,<br /></span> +<span>dan dink hy: 's Dit nie wat ek lees<br /></span> +<span>van Babilon en van die Bees?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IX</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die nuwe wêreldstad die lê<br /></span> +<span>tussen die twee families in.<br /></span> +<span>Een kant is Willem en oom Gert,<br /></span> +<span>en ander kant daar boer oom Koos<br /></span> +<span>nog met sy talryke gesin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die wêreldstad lê tussen hul,<br /></span> +<span>want, ja, die vriendskap is geskeur.<br /></span> +<span>Is dit miskien die profesie<br /></span> +<span>van wat op later dag nog met<br /></span> +<span>die hele nasie sal gebeur?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dina het Engels gou geleer,<br /></span> +<span>en ook so mooi leer sing...<br /></span> +<span>Sy het verlaas oom Koos besoek<br /></span> +<span>om hom saam met sy huisgesin<br /></span> +<span>tot vriendskap met die stad te dwing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy praat van meegaan met die stroom,<br /></span> +<span>van nie so alles te vermy.<br /></span> +<span>Maar nee, oom Koos het vas besluit<br /></span> +<span>dat hy met sy geslag<br /></span> +<span>op die ou-ou boere-pad sal bly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy sing oplaas vir hul 'n lied<br /></span> +<span>om so hul harte nog te vang.<br /></span> +<span>Oom Koos die volg dit met 'n sug<br /></span> +<span>en dink aan beter tyd terug<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hy hoor die mode-sang:<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>X</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Stad waar die ligte newels swewe,<br /></span> +<span>waar ligte luggies skitter-bewe;<br /></span> +<span>stad op 'n hoogland uitgebou,<br /></span> +<span>ver-sigbaar by die hemelblou—<br /></span> +<span>Johannesburg jy's waarlik ja<br /></span> +<span>die glorie van Suid-Afrika.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Van digte donkerheid omgewe<br /></span> +<span>het Boer en Kaffer hier gelewe;<br /></span> +<span>hul kon die goudstraal nie ontdek<br /></span> +<span>wat die beskawings-lewe wek;<br /></span> +<span>geen boeretent of ossewa<br /></span> +<span>kon lig bring vir Suid-Afrika.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Geen trekker bring hier nuwe lewe,<br /></span> +<span>maar deur 'n hoër drang gedrewe,<br /></span> +<span>kom pionier en delwer aan<br /></span> +<span>wat goudvonke uit die rotse slaan.<br /></span> +<span>Johannesburg die was weldra<br /></span> +<span>die ligpunt van Suid-Afrika.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Johannesburg is hoog van strewe,<br /></span> +<span>wat laag is word nie neergedrewe,<br /></span> +<span>maar naturel en trekker-boer<br /></span> +<span>word uit hul onkunde opgevoer.<br /></span> +<span>Johannesburg is waarlik ja<br /></span> +<span>die glorie van Suid-Afrika.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Johannesburg is hoog verhewe,<br /></span> +<span>die koningin uit lig gewewe;<br /></span> +<span>haar goue beeld sal wonders doen,<br /></span> +<span>sal immer ophef en versoen.<br /></span> +<span>Johannesburg sal steeds hierna<br /></span> +<span>die glorie wees van Afrika!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Blink is die saal van lampelig;<br /></span> +<span>gloed-helder blink hulle aangesig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Warm is die saal van somergloed;<br /></span> +<span>warm en onstuimig die hartebloed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En kringlend sweef daar bont deureen<br /></span> +<span>die danseresse op ligte been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar Dina is die skoonste as sy<br /></span> +<span>haar liggaamskoon in dans uitsprei;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>en Willem, die gewenste man,<br /></span> +<span>sien van die kant die skouspel an;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>terwyl hom loof 'n kring van mans<br /></span> +<span>dat hy só 'n vrou leen vir die dans.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar word gebuig, gevra, geswaai,<br /></span> +<span>die arrems in mekaar gedraai.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan rus oom Gert, in slaap gesink,<br /></span> +<span>waar net Gods sterre in stilte blink.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Rus?... Nee, hy sien op donker muur,<br /></span> +<span>in helder letters van hemelvuur:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Geweeg, geweeg, te lig bevind!"<br /></span> +<span>Dan roep hy: "Ag, my arme kind!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy vrou die stoot hom saggies aan,<br /></span> +<span>maar berg ook self 'n snik en traan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dof word én saal én walsgeluid,<br /></span> +<span>en langsaam gaan die lampe uit...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Leeg is die saal... Op tafelblad<br /></span> +<span>staan leë bottels in hul nat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En eind'lik, ná die sondenag,<br /></span> +<span>staan weer daarbuite 'n ander dag.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XII</b> <a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Warrelwind, die dagspook wat<br /></span> +<span>so plots ontwaak,<br /></span> +<span>en plots op straat of in die pad<br /></span> +<span>sy dans-swaai maak—<br /></span> +<span>is hy nie soms die bode van<br /></span> +<span>'n storm wat naak?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Papiere, blare, voddegoed,<br /></span> +<span>van stof deurdring;<br /></span> +<span>geswaai, geruk, soos in 'n tregter<br /></span> +<span>opgewring,<br /></span> +<span>kry skielik lewe en asem, hul<br /></span> +<span>dans in 'n kring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Is dit 'n gees, haastig gedaal<br /></span> +<span>uit hoër lug,<br /></span> +<span>wat van 'n naadrende onheil bring<br /></span> +<span>die voorgerug?...<br /></span> +<span>Kyk hoe die loom-lui stof geswind<br /></span> +<span>sy voet ontvlug!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Of is dit dalk 'n toorheks wat<br /></span> +<span>puur uit 'n grap,<br /></span> +<span>op straat al in die rondte wals<br /></span> +<span>met ligte stap,<br /></span> +<span>en met die voddegoed en stof<br /></span> +<span>kalkoentjies trap?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Rumoer'ge warr'ling langs<br /></span> +<span>die stof-vuil straat;<br /></span> +<span>binne die sinkgebou staan al<br /></span> +<span>'n mense-plaat,<br /></span> +<span>en op die platform staan 'n klomp<br /></span> +<span>klaar om te praat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Uit alle wêreld-oorde saam<br /></span> +<span>gewarrelwaai,<br /></span> +<span>lyk hul oom Gert soos hane wat<br /></span> +<span>staan koningkraai;<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hul veg vir stemreg met<br /></span> +<span>'n groot lawaai.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Intussen pak die stormwolk al<br /></span> +<span>op Tafelberg;<br /></span> +<span>en anderkant die water is<br /></span> +<span>'n leeu vererg<br /></span> +<span>wat nog in sagte woorde-klou<br /></span> +<span>sy naels verberg.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert is moeg van die tumult;<br /></span> +<span>ryp is sy plan:<br /></span> +<span>hy self met honderd ander storm;<br /></span> +<span>gryp pote van<br /></span> +<span>die stoele, en slaan op kop en lyf<br /></span> +<span>so wat hul kan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die helde vlug na alle kant<br /></span> +<span>die deurpoorte uit.<br /></span> +<span>Van lae galery vlug hul<br /></span> +<span>deur vensterruit,<br /></span> +<span>totdat 'n al te dikkert daar<br /></span> +<span>op half-lyf stuit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert laat hom dit dugtig op<br /></span> +<span>sy sitplek voel.<br /></span> +<span>Die dikkert skreeu sy buitevriend:<br /></span> +<span>"o Pull, John, pull!"<br /></span> +<span>Oom Gert die slaan; die dikkert roep:<br /></span> +<span>"o Help, John, pull!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> 'n Beskrywing van die stemreg-agitasie.</div><br /> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Is 't oorlog?... In oom Koos se huis<br /></span> +<span>woel almal net om klaar te kry.<br /></span> +<span>Daar word geslag weer en gebak,<br /></span> +<span>en buite voor die agterdeur<br /></span> +<span>trek reeds die seuns die bokwa reg<br /></span> +<span>om op te pak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die harte voel nie lekker nie,<br /></span> +<span>die woorde het angstig-min geword—<br /></span> +<span>soos steeds by donker voorbesef,<br /></span> +<span>by die vergeefse angsgevraag<br /></span> +<span>van hoe en waar<br /></span> +<span>die ontwaakte lewenslot sal tref.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Lughartig praat 'n enkele seun<br /></span> +<span>hoe hy die Engelsman sal skiet,<br /></span> +<span>maar moeder maan: My kind, my kind!<br /></span> +<span>Die seun wyk willig vir die woord,<br /></span> +<span>want, ja, daar was 'n kleinigheid<br /></span> +<span>wat hy nog aan sy saal wou bind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis amper klaar... Daar kom hul aan,<br /></span> +<span>die burgers van die omtrek, want<br /></span> +<span>oom Koos die is nog veldkornet...<br /></span> +<span>Straks staan hul, teuel in die arm<br /></span> +<span>en met geboë hoof,<br /></span> +<span>want een gaan voor in smeekgebed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die vrouens staan effens opsy,<br /></span> +<span>met arrems oor mekaar gevou,<br /></span> +<span>nou dat hul taak is afgedaan.<br /></span> +<span>Nou kan hul eers hul smart besef,<br /></span> +<span>en enkle droog met voorskoot-punt<br /></span> +<span>al die eerste oorlogstraan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan skuif en skok, met gang en draf,<br /></span> +<span>die burgers op hul perde weg—<br /></span> +<span>dit lyk somaar 'n mengelklomp!<br /></span> +<span>Maar tussen hulle flikker-blits<br /></span> +<span>geweldig in die lenteson<br /></span> +<span>die blinkgemaakte mauser-tromp!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert wat hom meer tuis voel by<br /></span> +<span>dié ruiterskaar—hy het oom Koos<br /></span> +<span>sy krygsmansdiens al aangebied—<br /></span> +<span>die luister hoe die jongspan in<br /></span> +<span>hul oorlogsblydskap sing<br /></span> +<span>die klanke van 'n oorlogslied:<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XIV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Kom, burgers, trek die perde reg:<br /></span> +<span>nou vrou en kind goeien-dag geseg!<br /></span> +<span>Jongkêrels, los die nôi se hand;<br /></span> +<span>en seuns, verlaat jul moeders, want<br /></span> +<span>daar gaan 'n strydroep deur die land!<br /></span> +<span>Gryp nou die teuels bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die regterhand gryp die visier,<br /></span> +<span>die bors oorkruis 'n bandelier;<br /></span> +<span>die spore in die sonskyn blink,<br /></span> +<span>stiebeuels teen mekaar weerklink,<br /></span> +<span>die ketel aan die saal rinkink.<br /></span> +<span>Kom, burgers, hou nou bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Laat aan die trippelaar sy pas,<br /></span> +<span>maar hou die vuurge hingste vas.<br /></span> +<span>Die agterstes moet ingalop<br /></span> +<span>tot binne-in die ruiter-trop—<br /></span> +<span>die ponie en die bossie-kop.<br /></span> +<span>Kom, burgers, ry so bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Trek burgers, almal nou geteld,<br /></span> +<span>al voort maar deur die wye veld,<br /></span> +<span>en of jul al omlaag verdwyn<br /></span> +<span>of op die heuwels weer verskyn—<br /></span> +<span>wys altyd weer die slingerlyn.<br /></span> +<span>Kom burgers, trek so bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Jaag, burgers, jaag oor rant en rots<br /></span> +<span>wanneer jul teen die vyand bots.<br /></span> +<span>Ruk in, spring af en pos gevat<br /></span> +<span>aan die onwrikbre ryperd-blad.<br /></span> +<span>Mik fyn, kyk waar die stoffie spat!<br /></span> +<span>Staan, burgers, staan dan bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En moet jul val, val dan met eer,<br /></span> +<span>met die oog die vyand toegekeer;<br /></span> +<span>val op die grense, man en perd,<br /></span> +<span>die oue vierkleur is dit werd,<br /></span> +<span>en die eerkroon wink al uit die vert.<br /></span> +<span>Val burgers, val dan bymekaar—<br /></span> +<span>die vierkleur is weer in gevaar!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>So sing die jonges vol van vreugde,<br /></span> +<span>maar ag, oom Gert se hart is seer<br /></span> +<span>as hy straks diep en dieper peinsend<br /></span> +<span>gaan langs die slagveld van weleer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dáár lê Majuba, donker kleurig,<br /></span> +<span>sy sye een en al terras;<br /></span> +<span>dis of die berg van alle eeue<br /></span> +<span>vir wonderdaad geskape was.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar lê Laingsnek; dis of Gods hande<br /></span> +<span>dit vir 'n skanswerk uit wou bou.<br /></span> +<span>En daar's Ingogo's kronkelbedding—<br /></span> +<span>net om die vyand op te hou.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar's nog die wonderlike hoeke,<br /></span> +<span>net om die vyand vas te keer;<br /></span> +<span>maar ag, oom Gert voel nou so anders,<br /></span> +<span>sy hart is onverklaarbaar seer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy sien nou oral groot kanonne,<br /></span> +<span>hy weet nie of die ding sal gaan.<br /></span> +<span>Die treine voer nou alle soorte<br /></span> +<span>van wapens uit die hoofstad aan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Daar is hom ook so baie mense,<br /></span> +<span>en baie goed word aangevoer;<br /></span> +<span>voorheen was daar so min maar nodig:<br /></span> +<span>'n ryperd, biltong en 'n roer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis nodig, ja, die tyd die vorder,<br /></span> +<span>en daarom swyg hy maar en kyk.<br /></span> +<span>Maar heel die Amajuba-wêreld,<br /></span> +<span>alles wil hom so anders lyk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Tog leef hy weer, die troue krygsman,<br /></span> +<span>al trek hy nou maar same net:<br /></span> +<span>'n oorlogsperd die stamp en runnik<br /></span> +<span>wanneer hy hoor die krygstrompet!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XVI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore!...<br /></span> +<span>Die dag van stryd het mooi begin,<br /></span> +<span>die burgers trek verwinnend in,<br /></span> +<span>en boerename 't binnekort<br /></span> +<span>oral 'n glorie-klank geword!—<br /></span> +<span>'n Pragtige môreglore!<br /></span> +<span>Maar onder in oom Gert se hart<br /></span> +<span>kom effens al, nog diep-verward,<br /></span> +<span>'n fluisterstem na vore:<br /></span> +<span>Verlore, verlore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore!...<br /></span> +<span>Die dag van stryd begin so goed,<br /></span> +<span>Suid-Afrika lê aan hul voet...<br /></span> +<span>Die Boer moet Afrika regeer!<br /></span> +<span>Gryp gou, voordat die kans kan keer!<br /></span> +<span>Buig uit die grense na vore!...<br /></span> +<span>Maar nou kom daardie fluisterstem,<br /></span> +<span>diep in oom Gert se bors geklem,<br /></span> +<span>so duidelik na vore:<br /></span> +<span>Verlore, verlore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore!...<br /></span> +<span>Rookwolke nader uit die suid<br /></span> +<span>en sprei hul oor die aard-breedte uit;<br /></span> +<span>oor Drakensberg se veil'ge top<br /></span> +<span>skuif swaar 'n donderonweer op;<br /></span> +<span>die storm sing in wilde kore!<br /></span> +<span>Oom Gert se stemme, in hom bekneld,<br /></span> +<span>kom nou daar buite op berg en veld<br /></span> +<span>al donderend na vore:<br /></span> +<span>Verlore, verlore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore!...<br /></span> +<span>Oom Gert die kon nie verder vlug,<br /></span> +<span>en sit nou, met sy vrou, te sug<br /></span> +<span>agter die ysterplate vas,<br /></span> +<span>daar waar hy eertyds vryman was<br /></span> +<span>en sy vryheid is wedergebore!<br /></span> +<span>Die fluisterstem daarbinne kom<br /></span> +<span>nou deur die ysterplaat weerom<br /></span> +<span>as huilende windstem na vore:<br /></span> +<span>Verlore, verlore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Verlore!...<br /></span> +<span>Die dag van stryd hou lank nog aan—<br /></span> +<span>dis of die son nou stil gaan staan.<br /></span> +<span>Maar eindlik roep hul rond: "Verby!<br /></span> +<span>dis vrede, vrede weer, wees bly—<br /></span> +<span>al is die vryheid verlore!"...<br /></span> +<span>Dan keer die wilde stem as sug<br /></span> +<span>weer in oom Gert se hart terug;<br /></span> +<span>en dring dan weer altyd na vore:<br /></span> +<span>Verlore, verlore!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>XVII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die oorlogsfakkel is gedoof,<br /></span> +<span>en die oorlogskamp word oopgesluit.<br /></span> +<span>Die nuwe tye, hooggeloof,<br /></span> +<span>kom met gejubel, lank en luid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die burgers kom van oral an<br /></span> +<span>en raak al met hul lot versoen.<br /></span> +<span>Maar net oom Gert, gebroke man,<br /></span> +<span>wat sal hy in so 'n wêreld doen?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Want ook sy troue vrou is dood—<br /></span> +<span>die lewe van 'n handjie meel<br /></span> +<span>en van 'n brok genadebrood<br /></span> +<span>was haar as boerevrou te veel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Willem, sy skoonseun—hy't vir hom<br /></span> +<span>die boerdery eers waargeneem—<br /></span> +<span>is skout, en het nie teruggekom.<br /></span> +<span>Hy's seker nou totaal vervreem!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Koos weer het sy grond verhuur,<br /></span> +<span>en trek die hoë Bosveld in,<br /></span> +<span>die Randse lewe is hom te duur<br /></span> +<span>en skaadlik vir sy huisgesin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar Dina—waar is sy en wat?<br /></span> +<span>sy die altyd skone boerevrou?...<br /></span> +<span>Geheel verslingerd in die stad<br /></span> +<span>en will'ge prooi van vreemdes nou!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wanneer oom Gert van Dina hoor,<br /></span> +<span>verbysterd al deur smart op smart,<br /></span> +<span>dan roep 'n dubb'le stem: "Verloor!"<br /></span> +<span>en dubb'le swaard gaan deur sy hart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Geen antwoord is daar op die stem<br /></span> +<span>wat vlymend deur sy siel nou gaan;<br /></span> +<span>maar as die leed te vinnig klem,<br /></span> +<span>roep hy: "Dit het die stad gedaan!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image4.jpg" width="400" height="289" alt="Dié vaal-wit hopies dek hul bei, / vader en +dogter, sy aan sy!" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Dié vaal-wit hopies dek hul bei, / vader en +dogter, sy aan sy! +</span> +</div> + + +<h2><a name="Groue_Grawe" id="Groue_Grawe"></a>Groue Grawe</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>I</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dis heuwels, heuwels, heuwels net<br /></span> +<span>sover 'n mens se oog kan speur:<br /></span> +<span>maar heuwels sonder struik of gras,<br /></span> +<span>en droewig-vaal soos as gekleur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Langes die heuwels staan 'n ding<br /></span> +<span>soos die houtgeraamte van 'n huis,<br /></span> +<span>waarbowe rust'loos wiele draai<br /></span> +<span>wat die waentjies optrek met die gruis.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die heuwels is party al oud;<br /></span> +<span>verlate en vasgereën party,<br /></span> +<span>en storms het baster-klofies in<br /></span> +<span>hul naakte ribbes ingesny.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die ander is nog in die maak<br /></span> +<span>van poeiergrond of gruis nog grof;<br /></span> +<span>en as die wind die fynes vat,<br /></span> +<span>dan trek daar tuite stof.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die heuwels lyk soos duine wat<br /></span> +<span>in blankheid rys aan verre strand—<br /></span> +<span>dáár rys hul uit die blou-diep see,<br /></span> +<span>hier uit die aard se ingewand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hier's ook 'n dreuning soos die dreun<br /></span> +<span>van sagbewoë wêreldsee,<br /></span> +<span>en winde wend, dan hier, dan daar<br /></span> +<span>die dowwe dreuning met hul mee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar waarom is die heuwels dan<br /></span> +<span>so hoog en ook so bleek?<br /></span> +<span>En waarom is die dreun so diep,<br /></span> +<span>so droef nes een wat smartlik smeek?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hul sê die duine aan strand is die<br /></span> +<span>grafheuwels van wie sterwe in see;<br /></span> +<span>en daardie droewe dreuning is<br /></span> +<span>die klag van wees en weduwee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar hiérdie heuwels, heuwels dan<br /></span> +<span>wat ook so hoog is en so bleek?<br /></span> +<span>En hiérdie droewe dreuning dan<br /></span> +<span>wat klaag soos een wat smartlik smeek?...<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>II</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Agtal jare is weer verby.<br /></span> +<span>Die boereplase is opgebou,<br /></span> +<span>die platjies is weer huise nou,<br /></span> +<span>die woeste leegte 'n landery.<br /></span> +<span>Gou ruk weer alles in verband—<br /></span> +<span>Suid-Afrika's 'n wonderland!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar net oom Gert se lewe kwyn.<br /></span> +<span>Sy hart is nie meer in die werk,<br /></span> +<span>sy wank'le bene is al onsterk,<br /></span> +<span>en ook die plasie word te klein.<br /></span> +<span>Die lewensreggie, kort van duur,<br /></span> +<span>wag net nog op sy sterwensuur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wanneer hy die omtrek saans beskou,<br /></span> +<span>hoedat die huis-tal groter word,<br /></span> +<span>die vrydom steeds word ingekort—<br /></span> +<span>dan sê hy: "Ja, daar is dit nou!<br /></span> +<span>Die vroeëre boere-paradys<br /></span> +<span>is nou één molshoop, groot en grys.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hier bly net hope en holtes lê:<br /></span> +<span>die vreemd'ling kraak die neut in twee<br /></span> +<span>waarvan hy ons net doppe gee,<br /></span> +<span>maar al die neutvet dra hy weg.<br /></span> +<span>Ons goud gaan na 'n vreemde strand—<br /></span> +<span>Transvaal bly lê: 'n armmans-land!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Die voorpos van die armes woon<br /></span> +<span>in Blikkies-dorp se kronkel-sink<br /></span> +<span>wat ver soos bottelstukke blink.<br /></span> +<span>Hul lewe van 'n hongerloon<br /></span> +<span>in huisies aanmekaar gepas<br /></span> +<span>en jaartjies vol van steenkool-as.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ag, arm Transvaal, waarvoor ek vrees,<br /></span> +<span>jy't Afrika voorheen geroer<br /></span> +<span>tot wakkerskudding van die boer—<br /></span> +<span>sal jy nie nou die laaste wees?<br /></span> +<span>Jou heil'ge eersgeboorte-reg<br /></span> +<span>word op die mark te koop geleg."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>III</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert het min verwagting meer.<br /></span> +<span>Nog één ding hou hom aan die loop,<br /></span> +<span>dit is die vleugie van 'n hoop<br /></span> +<span>dat eens sy dogter weer sal keer.<br /></span> +<span>Die droewe en tog verbede dag,<br /></span> +<span>daar bly sy siel nou stil op wag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy hopie word hom aangesterk<br /></span> +<span>deur 'n storie in 'n boek gelees:<br /></span> +<span>"In Skotlands berge is 't gewees,<br /></span> +<span>en 't was ook daar 'n stad se werk.<br /></span> +<span>'n Eenge dogter in haar fleur<br /></span> +<span>is uit die vadershuis geskeur.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Nie wetend waar sy swerwend gaan,<br /></span> +<span>kon haar vader net nog bid.<br /></span> +<span>Geen grendel is snags opgesit,<br /></span> +<span>maar deur die deur wat opestaan,<br /></span> +<span>flikker 'n kersie heelnag lang,<br /></span> +<span>wat haar by weerkoms moet ontvang.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"En ja, sy het eennag gekom!<br /></span> +<span>Die trekking van die ver-oop deur,<br /></span> +<span>en kersgeflikker deur die skeur,<br /></span> +<span>die stille bede-heiligdom—<br /></span> +<span>ja die gebed nog allermees—<br /></span> +<span>was 't vir haar hart te sterk gewees?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"As sy haar vader wenend kus,<br /></span> +<span>bars die oue ook in trane uit:<br /></span> +<span>'My kind, die deur was nooit gesluit<br /></span> +<span>en daardie kersie nooit geblus;<br /></span> +<span>dáár het ek biddend, nag aan nag,<br /></span> +<span>geduldig op jou koms gewag.'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar ag, oom Gert se hart is bang;<br /></span> +<span>want as die jaartal al maar slyt,<br /></span> +<span>dink hy: "My hoop is ydelheid,<br /></span> +<span>my wagte duur tog al te lang;<br /></span> +<span>my lewensdaggie's netnou om,<br /></span> +<span>en dan het sy nog nie gekom."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die mense vier al Unie-fees!...<br /></span> +<span>Hy, arme, sal ook maar gaan kyk<br /></span> +<span>hoedat die nuwe wêreld lyk—<br /></span> +<span>wie weet, miskien sal sy daar wees!<br /></span> +<span>Sy eensaamheid verlaat hy dan<br /></span> +<span>en kyk die vreemde wêreld an:<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IV</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe mooi het al die stad geword!<br /></span> +<span>Hoe slinger, soos 'n krans, omheen<br /></span> +<span>die villatjies in keur van steen<br /></span> +<span>en wisseling van boumodel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe mengel hulle kleuretint,<br /></span> +<span>van helder-wit tot donker-dof,<br /></span> +<span>omlaag, omhoog; dis alles of<br /></span> +<span>'n kunst'naarshand hul plek bepaal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe groei die bome in die rots<br /></span> +<span>en bloei die blomme in kleure sag,<br /></span> +<span>vlak teen die rant se wilde prag,<br /></span> +<span>asof dit nooit nie anders was.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En dan, die golwende verskiet<br /></span> +<span>van bulte en bosse, al deureen,<br /></span> +<span>totdat die oë vasslaan teen<br /></span> +<span>Magaliesberg, die groot blou reus.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>('n Bietjie goud maak baie mooi,<br /></span> +<span>en—dis maar krummels van die groot,<br /></span> +<span>uit louter goud gebakte brood,<br /></span> +<span>wat na Europa word vervoer!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ook saans nog wyk die mooiigheid<br /></span> +<span>nie heeltemal nie, want dan blink<br /></span> +<span>'n see van liggies; mens sal dink<br /></span> +<span>die sterre 't uit die lug geval.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die stad self lyk nou een en al<br /></span> +<span>koopmanspaleise opeengehoop,<br /></span> +<span>waartussen al die mensies loop<br /></span> +<span>wat vreselike drukte maak.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert sien niks van al die skoon.<br /></span> +<span>Die agterbuurt, daar dink hy aan<br /></span> +<span>waar die blikhuisies almal staan,<br /></span> +<span>en alles vuil-armoedig is;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>bedink maar hoe die mense woel<br /></span> +<span>waar huise en stof die son versper,<br /></span> +<span>waar sawends skyn geen maan of ster,<br /></span> +<span>en net die lampeskynsels blink.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy sien skoorstene en steenkoolrook;<br /></span> +<span>hy hoor die treine met hul haas;<br /></span> +<span>hy hoor die myn se toeter blaas,<br /></span> +<span>en 't gaan asof die aarde brul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy dink dan aan die myn-graf waar<br /></span> +<span>die mense lewendig in kruip,<br /></span> +<span>om soos erdvarke rond te sluip<br /></span> +<span>vir bietjie geld en—longekwaal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy dink aan ander duisende<br /></span> +<span>van mense, voorheen eerbaar-braaf,<br /></span> +<span>vir wie die skandgraf word gegraaf<br /></span> +<span>wanneer die goud rys uit die grond.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar—daar is fees bo-op dié graf!<br /></span> +<span>Nes die ou tyd waar oom Gert van lees,<br /></span> +<span>dat mense hou 'n dansersfees<br /></span> +<span>wanneer die "swarte dood" verwoes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>V</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Die môre van die Unie-fees</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert sien die soldate<br /></span> +<span>in kakie langs die strate.<br /></span> +<span>Hy sien die oorlogslans<br /></span> +<span>se lintjies vrolik dans,<br /></span> +<span>die sabels en gewere,<br /></span> +<span>kanonne en helmet-vere,<br /></span> +<span>op die paradebaan.<br /></span> +<span>En agteraan?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy sien die oorlogs-wees<br /></span> +<span>wat deelneem aan die fees—<br /></span> +<span>'n kinder-keurkommande<br /></span> +<span>met skewe hoede-rande;<br /></span> +<span>'n ganse skaar kadette<br /></span> +<span>met roer en bajonette—<br /></span> +<span>al agteraan<br /></span> +<span>op die paradebaan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Die môre-godsdiens</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Vroom geklank!<br /></span> +<span>Mense dank,<br /></span> +<span>almal mede,<br /></span> +<span>vir die vrede<br /></span> +<span>'n Opperwese.<br /></span> +<span>Want genees is<br /></span> +<span>en verbonde<br /></span> +<span>is al die wonde;<br /></span> +<span>rassevete <a name="FNanchor_B_1" id="FNanchor_B_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_1" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span>'s al vergeet.<br /></span> +<span>Met veréénde klank<br /></span> +<span>rys die vreugdedank!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_1" id="Footnote_B_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_1"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Rassetwiste.</p></div><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Die middag</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy hoor die geluid van juublend gesketter,<br /></span> +<span>die vrolike klank van simbaal en trompetter,<br /></span> +<span>gedra op die dreun van die oorlogstamboer<br /></span> +<span>wat dond'rend soos onweer die harte kom roer.<br /></span> +<span>Daar's wapenbeweeg wat yslik weerklink;<br /></span> +<span>kanonwaens kom aan en kettings rinkink.<br /></span> +<span>En hy hoor daarna:<br /></span> +<span>Hoera! Hoera!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy hoor die tred van die oorlogswees,<br /></span> +<span>sy voete gedril vir die Unie-fees!<br /></span> +<span>Hy hoor 'n gesang van sy lippe weerklink<br /></span> +<span>as hy bly en verruk uit die feesbeker drink.<br /></span> +<span>'n Hosanna gaan op uit die kindermond,<br /></span> +<span>en die skare juig saam in die vrolike stond;<br /></span> +<span>En hy hoor daarna:<br /></span> +<span>Hoera! Hoera!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>Die aand</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Vreugdevure deur die land...<br /></span> +<span>Mense juigend om die brand!<br /></span> +<span>Vreugdepyle gons omhoog<br /></span> +<span>en ontplof hoog aan die boog;<br /></span> +<span>bly-verwonderd bly die skaar<br /></span> +<span>na die skitterkleure staar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Oom Gert gaan vroeg die aand na huis,<br /></span> +<span>want een ding staan by hom nou vas:<br /></span> +<span>dat hy nie in dié wêreld pas.<br /></span> +<span>Hy het 'n beter dag geken<br /></span> +<span>en is te oud om nog te wen<br /></span> +<span>aan al die vreemdigheid<br /></span> +<span>van nuwe koers en tyd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy slaap laat in met diep gesug,<br /></span> +<span>en in sy droom kom weer terug<br /></span> +<span>die wese op die paradebaan,<br /></span> +<span>die kinders wat hosanna sing,<br /></span> +<span>die mense wat mekaar verdring<br /></span> +<span>om rond die vreugdevuur te staan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ook kom hom deur sy droomnag speel<br /></span> +<span>'n enk'le krygs- en kamptoneel;<br /></span> +<span>'n moeder by haar kind aan waak,<br /></span> +<span>'n stryder sterwend vir sy saak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En as hy opstaan kom die vraag:<br /></span> +<span>My Dina, ja, was sy<br /></span> +<span>ook dalk daarby?...<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VI</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dina se lewe val haar swaar.<br /></span> +<span>Helaas, sy was die laaste tyd<br /></span> +<span>haar blosende gesondheid kwyt,<br /></span> +<span>en moes gedurig drankies koop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy het in 'n café gedien<br /></span> +<span>waar sy gedurig reg moes staan,<br /></span> +<span>die wit-gestyfde voorskoot aan<br /></span> +<span>en haardos ydel opgetooi.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy moes haar aangesig verkleur;<br /></span> +<span>want al die glans van vel en oog<br /></span> +<span>het met die jare weggedroog—<br /></span> +<span>só was haar blommesteel geknak!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy moes daar staan en vriendlik wees<br /></span> +<span>vir iedereen, al oor en oor,<br /></span> +<span>ook as die kêrels met haar skoor<br /></span> +<span>en stilletjies haar dinge sê.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Saans word sy dikwels uitgevra<br /></span> +<span>om na die bioskoop te kyk;<br /></span> +<span>dan moet sy weer so sinlik lyk,<br /></span> +<span>dat sy die jonkmans kan bekoor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan kry sy volop lekkers en<br /></span> +<span>'n sitplek in die voorste ry;<br /></span> +<span>dan is daar volop gekkerny<br /></span> +<span>op die toneel en in die saal,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>totdat 'n ander lewensdag<br /></span> +<span>in sondenag word uitgeblus;<br /></span> +<span>die liggaam weer na late rus<br /></span> +<span>moet deur die vroeë more heen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hoe sweef dan om haar koors-gesig<br /></span> +<span>die kuisheid van die môredou;<br /></span> +<span>hoe pynig haar 'n naberou<br /></span> +<span>wat al maar met die môre kom!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Haar leë hart het sy so lank<br /></span> +<span>uit singenot se kelk laat drink,<br /></span> +<span>dit word haar aldeur volgeskink<br /></span> +<span>en—tot die prys van hande goud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Tog bly haar hart gedurig leeg...<br /></span> +<span>Sy sal die fees dan ook maar my...<br /></span> +<span>Oom Gert soek haar vergeefs daarby...<br /></span> +<span>Skyn-vrolik is sy nou nie meer!...<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ja, Dina was dié dag nie by<br /></span> +<span>en ook nie bly...<br /></span> +<span>God het haar eind'lik stil laat staan!<br /></span> +<span>En omgewend?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die aand versprei sy duister skerm<br /></span> +<span>wanneer sy op die rante kerm<br /></span> +<span>in haar ellend:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Ag, kon ek nog my sondedaad<br /></span> +<span>as sondesaad<br /></span> +<span>weer in my donker hart<br /></span> +<span>terugontvang,<br /></span> +<span>dan was my vrees,<br /></span> +<span>my angs by awendswart<br /></span> +<span>wis minder bang<br /></span> +<span>gewees.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Maar nou, nou het voorheen my hand<br /></span> +<span>dit uitgeplant,<br /></span> +<span>die eerste korrel van die kwaad.<br /></span> +<span>En ieder jaar vermenigvuldig<br /></span> +<span>die boom so kwaad<br /></span> +<span>die sondesaad,<br /></span> +<span>en maak my siel doodskuldig.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Teen awendgrys<br /></span> +<span>verrys<br /></span> +<span>nou boom op boom, hul bly<br /></span> +<span>soos donker plekke,<br /></span> +<span>soos pikswart vlekke<br /></span> +<span>dwars-teen my vinnig-aan<br /></span> +<span>wegdonkerende hemel staan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>En waar ek nou al dolend gaan,<br /></span> +<span>hul staar my aan,<br /></span> +<span>die bome; deur hul blare<br /></span> +<span>hoor ek die nare<br /></span> +<span>geruis van doem en dood—<br /></span> +<span>oneindig ver van my<br /></span> +<span>en altyd naderby!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Ek vlug verdwaald, verdwaas van sin,<br /></span> +<span>benard, benoud<br /></span> +<span>my donker woud<br /></span> +<span>al dieper, dieper in!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>VIII</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sal God dan Dina so laat staan?...<br /></span> +<span>Sy wend haar voetstap al maar aan<br /></span> +<span>op agterbuurtse sinkgebou<br /></span> +<span>waar awenddienste word gehou...<br /></span> +<span>Net kwyn sag weg 'n lied van dank<br /></span> +<span>as sy gaan sit op verste bank.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wanneer die laaste galm verruis,<br /></span> +<span>spreek sag die leraar van 'n Huis<br /></span> +<span>daarbowe, wat veel wonings het,<br /></span> +<span>die toevlugsoord van wat belas,<br /></span> +<span>gedruk, verlaat, verlore was.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Wees nie ontroer, voeg hy daarby,<br /></span> +<span>as jul nog sondesmarte ly,<br /></span> +<span>want daar hou juis die eng'le fees<br /></span> +<span>om wie verlore hier mag wees.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>o Die oue, oue Bybeltaal,<br /></span> +<span>by haar al lank verouderd al—<br /></span> +<span>dit sink soos eerste druppels reën<br /></span> +<span>wat op 'n ou pad val.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>(Wat hoor sy nou! "Wees nie ontroer!"<br /></span> +<span>Het God haar voete hier gevoer?...<br /></span> +<span>Wat hoor sy! "Daar is baie plek."<br /></span> +<span>Ook vir 'n sondares soos ek?...<br /></span> +<span>Wat!... dat daar om verlorene fees<br /></span> +<span>sal wees!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan volg 'n laaste smeekgebed<br /></span> +<span>dat God barmhartiglik mag red<br /></span> +<span>deur altyd-nuwe wekgeluid;<br /></span> +<span>en daarmee gaan die kerkie uit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Sy stap die duisternis weer in,<br /></span> +<span>maar dis vir haar 'n dagbegin;<br /></span> +<span>dis of die sterre almal wink,<br /></span> +<span>of die aandster bo die woning blink<br /></span> +<span>waarin haar vader op haar wag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dieselfde nag het sy besluit<br /></span> +<span>om na haar vader terug te gaan.<br /></span> +<span>Want as God haar nie weg wil wys,<br /></span> +<span>dan neem 'n eie vader wis<br /></span> +<span>sy enige dogter aan.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span><b>IX</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Wie kom so laat nog na my huis?...<br /></span> +<span>Ek hoor daarbuite 'n voetstap ruis."...<br /></span> +<span>Die bo-deur swaai sag aan die kant.<br /></span> +<span>Is dit die wind se onsigbre hand?...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Kersie wikkel—hoe die deur<br /></span> +<span>al saggies word opsy gebeur—<br /></span> +<span>en wend lig-golfies daar en hier<br /></span> +<span>langs langvergane muurpapier.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Wie kom nou na my huis? Dis nag!"<br /></span> +<span>Die grysaard nou geboë wag<br /></span> +<span>en kyk, maar kan geen wese ontdek—<br /></span> +<span>totdat 'n stem kom: "Pa, dis ek."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Dan doem traag uit die duisternis<br /></span> +<span>'n beeld wat hom nóg eie is.<br /></span> +<span>"My kind!... Oplaas!" en dan niks meer.<br /></span> +<span>Sy val hom aan die voete neer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>'n Vaderhart se medely—<br /></span> +<span>wat kom Gods liefde naderby?<br /></span> +<span>God wat alreeds te wagte staan<br /></span> +<span>as die "verlore seun" kom aan!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hy blik haar in die skuldige oog...<br /></span> +<span>Die trane-sout 't al vasgedroog.<br /></span> +<span>En sinlikheid aan 't wisselwyk,<br /></span> +<span>van ver deur dowwe sluiers kyk.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"My kind, dáár het ek neergekniel,<br /></span> +<span>snags uitgestort my bitter siel;<br /></span> +<span>dié deur het nooit nie dig gegaan,<br /></span> +<span>en daardie kersie 't daar gestaan.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Nou kan ek sterf, my oog het nou<br /></span> +<span>jou saligheid, my kind, aanskou."<br /></span> +<span>Hy sien haar aangesig is bleek—<br /></span> +<span>'n skone spieël gekraak, gebreek.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Hoe is jou skoonheid van weleer<br /></span> +<span>deur Gods geregtigheid verteer—<br /></span> +<span>die vlam wat ons nie sien nie, maar<br /></span> +<span>waarvan ons net die as vergaar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"My kind, meteens my profesie,<br /></span> +<span>van wat my oog gewislik nie<br /></span> +<span>meer sal aanskou: die wederkeer<br /></span> +<span>van al my volk tot God en eer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Lê op my graf geen sooi met gras,<br /></span> +<span>maar dek dit met die heuwel-as;<br /></span> +<span>want daarso lê begraaf jou eer<br /></span> +<span>en van die boervolk van weleer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span><i>"Ja, daarom is die heuwels hoog,</i><br /></span> +<span><i>en dáárom is hul skynsel bleek,</i><br /></span> +<span><i>en daarom is die winddreun diep,</i><br /></span> +<span><i>so droef soos een wat smartlik smeek!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Maar eens herleef die nasie weer,<br /></span> +<span>waarvan ek sterwend profeteer.<br /></span> +<span>Eens word die grys-blou heuwels klein<br /></span> +<span>as God alleen weer groot verskyn!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Hul staar mekaar nog vraend aan<br /></span> +<span>wanneer die dag al op wil gaan...<br /></span> +<span>Dan sien sy hoe sy vinger wys<br /></span> +<span>waar Perdekraal se heuwels rys!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>Die digter het sy taak volbring.<br /></span> +<span>Die sanger het sy lied gesing,<br /></span> +<span>en wil met enk'le woorde nog<br /></span> +<span>vermeld van stille beevaarts-tog;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span>van hoe sy voet eerbiedig stand<br /></span> +<span>hou by twee graftes op die Rand.<br /></span> +<span>Dié vaal-wit hopies dek hul bei,<br /></span> +<span>vader en dogter, sy aan sy!—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Trekkerswee, by J.D (AKA Totius) du Toit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TREKKERSWEE *** + +***** This file should be named 16543-h.htm or 16543-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/4/16543/ + +Produced by Michael Ciesielski, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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