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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=398609" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Jakobus Le Grange Marais (a reply to Christopher Hope)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">One early evening while waiting for a train<br>I walked into an old station bar, <br>to buy a cold cider to kill a thirst<br>in the sweltering <br>thirty degree Celsius summer heat</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and saw a very old cripple man<br>who nursed a glass of white wine<br>and he was talking to himself<br>and sometimes stuttered over his words.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When he looked up at me<br>there was fire in his eyes<br>and it was almost as if<br>he recognized me, from a dream<br>or a prophecy of something</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and suddenly his face was calm<br>while he called me over for a chat<br>and I ordered a bottle of brandy for him<br>and another Hunters Gold for me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He complained that the times were cruel<br>with one hand motioning to his missing legs<br>that he had lost in a train crash<br>and complained about Afrikaners<br>ignoring each other <br>and only living for themselves<br>while the nation is being led astray</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and then suddenly said but my boy, <br>you know this, <br>have experienced it yourself<br>as a learned man without a job</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but let me tell you something<br>about days long gone<br>even before the Boer war <br>(where the British killed <br>women and children in concentration camps) , <br>many Afrikaner farmers <br>were executed at Slagtersnek<br>and it had been a terrible, terrible time</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and then that holy Englishman John Phillip<br>meddled in our affairs<br>and now he haunts us again<br>peering in at the window panes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and I shook my head, did not understanding<br>exactly what the old man said<br>and heard something about<br>English people being in cahoots<br>with the current government<br>and ladies ruling as bosses<br>while educated Afrikaner men are jobless</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and he swayed on his stool<br>and I rose to steady him<br>when he said to pour more brandy with ice<br>and complained that now nobody<br>is keeping the impis at bay<br>and pointed a finger at me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and I thought that he said<br>but you will do, or maybe<br>you haven’t got a clue<br>and leaning forward<br>strangely his breath was clear</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and I heard him stuttering something <br>sounding like even uncle Paul<br>in church square knows<br>that soon all Afrikaner men<br>will be poor</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and I said to him: <br>“My man we already are<br>with the new black regime, <br>but most Afrikaners<br>just do not realise it yet.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He smiled at me then <br>and steadily held his glass, in a final salute<br>brought it to his lips<br>and faded into the naught<br>de-materializing in front of me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Reference: Kobus Le Grange Marais by Christopher Hope.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=398609" data-title="Jakobus Le Grange Marais (a reply to Christopher Hope) de Gert Strydom" data-description="One early evening while waiting for a train
I walked into an old station bar, 
to buy a cold cider to kill a thirst
in the sweltering 
thirty degree Celsius summer heat

and saw a very old cripple man
who nursed a glass of white wine
and he was ta..."></div>
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