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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Six o’clock on a Friday morning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s six o’clock on a Friday morning<br>and I wait for my bus<br>and across the street, <br>the lights are burning cheerful and yellow<br>in the square and dome shaped windows<br>of the state library<br>and I wonder what documents are kept there</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Street hawkers sell newspapers and sweets<br>in front of the Pretoria News, <br>while passengers are already<br>catching busses in rows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There’s an icy chill<br>that hangs in the morning dawn light<br>and there’s a skew pointed obelisk<br>that is in front of the high court chambers<br>and a newspaper heading <br>talks about the recession<br>that is blowing hot and cold, <br>but it’s freezing<br>and the cold even eats<br>right through my leader jacket.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the east side of Vermeulen Street<br>the sky becomes a light yellow, <br>while the blue of the heaven<br>folds open all over the rest <br>and streetlights stand in a long row<br>up the street past traffic lights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Schoolgirls dressed in blue<br>are watching school boys with red jerseys<br>and young women<br>stand and shake <br>from the cold and I wonder, <br>how the old red delivery bicycle<br>behind the pillar<br>are not getting stolen <br>where it stands every morning on its place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There’s a street sign that points to the Pierneef museum<br>into the L te Groen Eureka factory building, <br>but it’s still too early<br>to go and look at paintings<br>and I wonder how<br>the Pierneef paintings inside looks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the side of a building<br>I am amazed at the Tswane sign, <br>but this big city<br>will always stay Pretoria for me<br>and I wonder how people<br>can build buildings so pressed into each other<br>and look at old and new buildings<br>standing rowed in onto each other<br>and the bus stays away, <br>while others come and go<br>and I wait <br>a while longer in the cold.</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=399276" data-title="Six o’clock on a Friday morning de Gert Strydom" data-description="It’s six o’clock on a Friday morning
and I wait for my bus
and across the street, 
the lights are burning cheerful and yellow
in the square and dome shaped windows
of the state library
and I wonder what documents are kept there

Street hawkers..."></div>
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