An Elegy to Eugene Terreblance
You are gone without a farewell
and like a great De Wet
or De La Rey
you stood single
for your people
to also have
a place in the sun.
When your men went into Bophuthatswana
there was fear in me
that they wouldn’t be able to bring peace there
and would get death for their trouble.
Time after time I have listened
to your electronic Afrikaans poems
about the field, nature
and God to whom
you bended your knee
and the beauty of it
and your humanity
came to lie in my heart.
I was at Church Square
when you on the day of the covenant
read a piece out of the Bible
and prayed for your country, your people
and that God reach out His hand
against the dark might
that takes their humanity away,
but in your sleep
you were hacked to pieces
with a Panga-blade
and a martyr was made of you.
Let dark Africa rejoice
and declare killers as heroes
and reveal themselves to journalists
and the wide world.
Let people interpret you wrongly
as a bellicose person
that wanted to bring conflict.
l’Envoi
I see a honourable man
who wanted to serve his Lord,
who set his people first
and your death plucks through me
and cuts where it hurts most,
as in a way
every Afrikaner is portrayed in you.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Not with a machinegun, but with a pen (in answer to Breyten Breytenbach)
Not with a machinegun, but with a pen
I write this prayer
since Your might is greater than any weapon:
What am I able to tell You, Jesus Christ,
almighty Creator, God and upper Lord,
I who are only an Afrikaner in my forties,
since You know every thing, even before it happens
and there’s nothing that I can teach You.
How my country was taken away
by people who pray to ancestral spirits
(who probably are demons) ,
that a man with more than one wife
sit in the highest chair,
that I still pay taxes
when and where I have a job
and that it is difficult times
and work is very scarce
for a white man.
Would I have to tell about a government
that sings give me my machinegun
and a bullet for a Boer
and kill the farmer,
kill the white
as You know every thing.
That my people were disarmed
by the government
and by barbarians
are hacked into pieces
with panga-blades and axes
like you were sacrificed
and even in death
they are humiliated
by pulling their pants down
like You had to hang naked on the cross,
that women are raped
as if every white woman
is a sex slave
belonging to the hordes
that they still throw knucklebones
and think that it brings them invincibility
and freedom from blame.
l’Envoi
All that I am really asking
is that all of these deeds
and the things that they do, say and sing
go into the cup of Your wrath
and please help
my people and me
to serve You better
that the wide world
(like with our ancestors)
can see Your might and salvation.
[References: nie met die pen nie maar met die masjiengeweer by Breyten Breytenbach. Murder on Eugene Terreblance. Murder and violence on white people.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Don’t Cry For Me Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
I see pain in your eyes people of Africa
It is hard to describe what you people of Africa are going through
Poverty strikes you all people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will keep you in my prayers people of Africa
Power to the people of Africa
People of Africa lift your spirit higher
Lord is the light and truth people of Africa
The Lord sends you a message from his heart to you people of Africa
He said because I love you
I will answer your prayers
I hear your prayers
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because you have a friend that is the Lord
People of Africa continue doing the Lords work
Make a wish people of Africa
The people of Africa are looking at the Lord face to face
Lord here is no paradise
We dream a little dream said the people of Africa to the Lord
The People of Africa Pray that the Lord will give each other strength every day
Don’t cry for me Africa
Save the people of Africa
Strengthened the people of Africa each day
Because I’ll be there in your dreams people of Africa
The people of Africa tells The Lord how much they love him
Don’t cry for me Africa
Lord comes when you are ready people of Africa
Feelings you have for your Lord People of Africa
And I know you will never let it die
Nothing but flowers the people of Africa will plant in the sea shore for the Lord
Don’t cry for me Africa
The people of Africa needs hope to heal there land
The Lord rose up on you people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
My heart will go on
Once I close this door of the ship I will sail across the Atlantic Sea
poem by Aldo Kraas
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South Africa Is Also My Country
From my birth South Africa is my own country
and my people can flee to an island
but my own culture and language stays holy
although this place is not safe,
I still trust on a much higher hand,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
even if the struggling government gives me resistance,
do oppress me with unfair laws,
even if nothing can stop the disintegration,
even if I am not safe against the onslaught,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country,
even if some act with effrontery against my people
I come from a noble heritage,
I am proud on my Afrikaner lineage,
even if people and buildings are set alight,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
with no other place I have such a deep bond
and even if here I will never have any job,
I believe in God and a Christian church,
God himself still keeps my ways intact,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Taken
You never wanted to tell them
Still trouble will find its way
Silence took quickly
Killing off the endless dream
Our souls never wanted to be
Dark cell like purgatory
Black eyes lights blindin'
The path is there, still cant find it
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
Mind trip not ever afraid
Mental wounds in sicken needing
The priest in church to sing
Songs of love, peace for humanity
Hands high steps bring, bring
Young soul inculcating
From the streets they will bring
Death from hate and thrill of suffering
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
(woman singing)
Standing at the gates, Heaven
Begging them to let me in
Its not his fault that
He lived in a world of sin
One fight, had to kill a man
Now its in bad sufferin'
He did the best to do us right
But still the gates are locked tight
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
Taken from me!
You cant take me from me!
song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I went into the wide world
I went into the wide world
and everywhere
where I could
stood on snow white beaches
reconnoitred the blue ocean,
hillocks and hills,
saw plains
and in the desert
white skeletons
of animals that disappeared,
encountered and learned to know people
said farewell to others
and experienced every thing
that I wanted
and still tried to keep
to that which is good,
held different banknotes
in my hand
and paid a price for a living
and took pieces out of my humanity,
when I realized
that yesterday, today and tomorrow
really are the same
with a sun that appears
and disappears at its time,
stars shining on the heavenly dome
and fleeing for the blue,
that there always are people
that cares for each other
and likes you
and that some dislikes you
who leaves pain and discomfort,
that we are sometimes happy,
exuberant, mournful
or sad
and try too hard
to buy every minute
of life before it passes
and that the course of life
is tied to its own time
and farewells
sometimes lies just around the corner,
that people are human
and stand
at the feet of God
for whom a thousand years
passes like a single day.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The People Who Love Nature
Not seen as great or special or the leaders of our time
But to the people who love Nature i dedicate this rhyme
They dedicate their free time for the future of human kind
And in the person who loves Nature a great person you will find.
The person who loves Nature be it he or be it she
Is someone who is a good friend of all of humanity
For we belong to Nature though some may not agree
Like every other life form that's how 'twould seem to me.
The people who try to save the woodland from the bulldozer and chainsaw
And whilst in trying to save the trees they break a man made law
Are the real heroes and heroines and the unsung of our day
Though there are many out there who do not see it that way.
No special day to honour them and for them never a parade
And for the dead who did love Nature the last post is never played
They live to save the Planet and anonymity is their gain
But the people who love Nature as my heroes and my heroines do remain.
--------------------
poem by Francis Duggan
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Memory to Eugène Terreblancé at Rooigrond prison
This government slammed a jail door behind you,
caged you in like a animal, locked you behind bars
in the prison at Rooigrond;
when this government took your freedom
a potted plant was your biggest treasure
and the grace that you found on your knees
from the almighty Lord God
and between the prisoners with tin plates,
who were continuously making a ruckus,
they tried to devour your humanity.
In the mornings they gave you porridge,
before prison doors slammed behind you,
in the afternoons again porridge and for dinner pale soup;
but still you are walking through my thoughts,
your splendid poems turn and whirl in my mind
as if they are still keeping you alive
and this government
does not hear the cock crowing three times,
the Son of God was also betrayed and sold.
The barbarians that slaughtered you with pangas
already got bail,
(the one as a child is free from prosecution)
and in a few days your killers
(from Mozambique who brought disorder here)
will probably walk free as heroes into the streets.
By some of your own people despised
you were actually right, your own blood that flowed;
on the hands of black people,
stays proof of it eternally
l’Envoi
and somehow the blacks in our country
has totally lost their senses,
where they rob and decimate
the Afrikaner people and Afrikaner farmers.
[Reference: Rooigrondtronk (Rooigrond prison) by Eugène Terreblancé.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Fear is Everywhere You look
Everyone has a fear
They don’t even know where it comes from
Fear is everywhere you don’t have to look
There are fears that scare little kids
Like the dark or the monster in the closet
But without fear the world would fall into darkness
There are some people that fear other people
And some that fear water
But a lot of people fear the end of the world
There are people that do not have any fear
They are the people that are different
Even if they hide their fears from humanity
I am someone that is different
But I will tell you my fear
And that is
The fear of my friends dying first
I could not live with out my friends
A man once told me that fear is away to run
Show no fear even in the eyes of the end
Fear is everywhere you look
I told you my fear
I think that you have a fear too
But if you dare to tell
That is your choose
I do not control you
I have said that fear is everywhere you look
What is your worst fear? ? ?
I will not judge you if you tell! ! !
poem by Thomas Henderson
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Living My Life
Ooooh
La la la
La la la
Mmmm
Hey yea
No no
Mmm
Oh no
Hmmm
Oooh I'm so happy that I'm
Livin' my life
I never knew what I went through
But hoped everything'd turn out right
I'm rememberin' the days that I was holdin' my head down
When people came around I always pretended to smile
But I knew
Deep in my heart
That I was slowly
Fallin apart
Some days
All I wanted
Was to hold my mother's hand
And hear her say
"Baby...
You're gonna make it"
Over and over again
So I
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
(Livin' my life)
And I'm
So glad I made it this far
(oh)
And
Nothin' honna bring me back down
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
(turn me around)
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
And I'm
So glad I made it this far
(so glad)
And
Nothin' gonna bring me back down
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
Don't want nobody to think
It was easy for me
It took a while just to get down
Too many people just didn't believe
I'm remembering the sacrifices that I had to make
I would cry myself to sleep and say that it would be ok
But I knew
That if I prayed
That I would be on my way someday
Some times
All I wanted
Was to hear my father say
He would say
"Baby...
You're gonna make it
And I don't care what people say"
So I'm
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
And I'm
So glad I made it this far
And
Nothin' gonna bring me back down
(Bring me back down)
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
(Turn me around)
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
And I'm
So glad I made it this far
And
Nothin' gonna bring me back down
(Bring me back down)
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
(Turn me around
Oh I want the world to see
Everything that's happened to me
I went from goin' out my mind
To always on time
And I am no longer a fool
Since my days are cold without you
And I'm so
(I'm so)
Happy
(Happy)
Baby baby babe
Said I'm so
(I'm so)
Happy
(Happy)
Baby baby babe
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
And I'm
So glad I made it this far
(So glad)
And
Nothin' gonna bring me back down
(Nothing)
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
(And oooooooh)
And I been livin' my life for quite some time
And I'm so glad I made it this far
(Yeah yeah)
And
Nothin' gonna bring me back down
(Bring me back down)
And
Nothin' gonna turn me around
(Turn me around)
song performed by by Ashanti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comes Death (A song)
'Out the window lies the future,
where we can see, but never reach her.' - P.N.
All the world is hopeless,
All the sights been seen
all the land is bought up
all the dreams been dreamed
The end comes to everything
to every time - to every place
comes death on wings of fire
cones death on wings of dark
All the years are fruitless
all the work's been done
all the curses lifted
all the prizes won
The end comes to everything
to every dream - to all that's green
comes death with eyes of fire
comes death with eyes of dark
All the difference taken
all the people same
all that's war is broken
all this peace is lame
The end comes to everything
to every war - to every peace
comes death with thoughts of fire
comes death with thoughts of dark
All the gold is rusted
all the cities gone
all the wind is hollow
all the lights left on
The end comes to everything
to every story - every theme
comes death on tireless mission
comes death with darkened peace
poem by Poet Dragon
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I Would Love To Go To Africa
I would love to go to Africa to see the wildlife there
To bring away from there great memories that with others i could share
To see the Serengeti the World's greatest wildlife park
And hear the male lions roaring and hear the wild dogs bark.
I would love to go to Africa to the Countries of the Nile
The home of the World's largest reptile the African crocodile
To see the wildebeest and zebra in huge flocks congregate
Across the bare savanna in thousands they migrate.
I would love to go to Africa the cradle of humanity
As long as marvellous wildlife there's colorful people for to see
The indigenous people of a Continent that is as old as time
A Land sketched by great artists and that has inspired writers to story, song and rhyme.
I would love to visit Africa from here many a mile
To see the World's greatest Continent would be something well worthwhile
The cradle of humanity a Land beyond compare
Of there i would have such great memories with others for to share.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Predictions
The lost book of Nostradamus
suddenly is found and quoted
and even predictions
from extinct people
that the hour work
is hitting near the end
and that man
is standing on the brink of disaster
is given.
Astrologers and old prophets
leave people dumbstruck
with predictions
about what is going to happen with humanity
and people look up into the sky
to see what the stars are telling.
l’Envoi
Great Lord, of all of this I know very little,
just that all things begin with You
and that Your hand
is still around the world
and Your love and compassion
still reaches out to man.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dark Death
Everyone goes through dark death
It's painful, cruel, and somehow blue
Everyone suffers until last breath
Somewhere the will find a clue
Death is something you can't escape
Sooner or later you'll have to face it
Death is scary and dark like a black cape
You can't see it coming, it'll just hit
Dark death is sometimes sweet
people like it because it takes away he misery
People shoot, hit, and beat
They'll rot away like celery
Dark death is sometimes cool
but it's mostly always cruel
poem by Maria Lara
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African Identity Is Lost
Thank you South Africa Thank you
Today I don’t know why should I cal myself an African
South Africa I am afraid
I don’t know why you have killed people of Zimbabwe
You have exposed this mother land
It is like what Hitler was doing to the Jews
Why, Why, Why? ? ?
Yesterday we were depending on Zimbabwe for liberation struggle.
We had no fighting machines, no residences and no identity
Robert Mugabe Sacrificed all of his power, just because he wanted to see South Africa out of its previous crisis
With the lapse of 15 years?
Why don’t you look at United State of America?
United State has truly become a Model Liberal Country
Its President is a black person
It is a mixture of different people – none of which we have ever had such South African Tragic Killings
Today I am telling te whole world that I am so embarrassed
Ladies and Gentlemen: South Africa is a Xenophobic Country
If you think to pay a visit for study there: please take another option
I had never think that a person can be boiled with fire for no reason but Xenophobia
I wish you a very bad lucky
Perhaps God can give you a Tsunami over your bad reputation
South Africa does not only needs to apologize to Zimbabweans
It needs to apologies to the whole world
It needs to apologies to the whole Africa country
It need to apologies to God himself
It need to apologies to itself for having lost consciousness
I want to warn South Africa with one thing
Fire is not the end of the world
It is not to terminate the Zimbabweans by burning them alive
God has always been there before the fire
I remember when the King ordered fire to kill three men in the bible
God came out to be a shield
Just like he protect people from the lions he can be an answer to what South Africans have done to Zimbabweans
It is like there is absolutely nothing happened to all over the country
Nobody is feeling the sense of pity about these people
They are being treated as the dead dogs
Eve the policies who were there to mediate seem to smile, during event.
The religious groups who are always regarded as holy have not even gathered to express words of regret not only to Zimbabweans but to God himself.
I don’t know which country I can run to
Because I can hear the anger of Gods –talking to me
I wish I can fly away because the pain that South Africa will feel is more that the fire
I am not talking about a joke, I am talking about god
Africa what you have done is to challenge the Lord himself
Since God is able to protect a person that people are playing with
What about those South African who have decided to kill people the image of God himself.
I don’t know: but I think it will be better to be at Zimbabwean Starvation that to be at tragic South Africa
Don’t you remember what happened when people steal the covenant of God at Middle East Countries?
I am yours and you are not mine
No we are not the same
I am not xenophobic
I believe the extended hand is more blessed with receiving hand
I reconcile the process of giving the poor Zimbabwean the food they deserve
No I am an African; It won’t be Africa to me to kill another African
I cannot stop thinking about this
I have several friends and collogues that are coming from Zimbabwe
I am shame of myself
I don’t know what kind of friendship I have with them if my Brothers are killing them
I don’t know whether I will see the in future because of these continuous killings
Thank you South Africa thank you
I did not realize that you have lost the covenant of God
I don’t know whether you are prepared for God’s reaction
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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Show me my Africa!
Show me my origin...
Show me my land...
Show me my Africa...
Shine and support the spirit of UBUNTU.
Take me back to where i belong,
Where birds fly well peacefully,
Where every creature is happy.
Let me hear African stories,
Let me see its natural beauty landscapes.
Show me my land...
The land of great heroes,
Where Nobel peace price winners were born.
Where fighting and murder is a sin,
Where all people wish one thing,
Where all people preach one thing,
Where all people practice one thing,
Where everyone wants PEACE.
Let me hear those voices of hope...
Land of admissible and prosperity,
Where cultural diversity means nothing, but
Brings us together as valiant regiments.
Past is the past and let us let it pass...
Show me my Africa...
Where robust and intrepid people lives,
Where the beauty of cultures reflects.
Let discrimination be the history
And believe in the beauty of Africa.
Show me my origin...
Let me venerate and cherish its traditions..
Let me be the true African.
Take me back to Africa.
Show me my origin,
Show me my land,
Show me my AFRICA..
('ubuntu' is a Zulu word meaning humanity)
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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He Is Caught In Time
(after Mandi Engelbrecht)
The faces around him is a confusing sea
of unknown people for whom he does not care
and he keeps away from pleasure and enjoyment;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
No beautiful girl catches his eyes
and he is afraid for all of life,
people on the street are strange and silly;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
One dark night his wife left him,
talked cheerfully about her new lover,
took everything along even the last flower vase,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God;
she told the whole world that he whores around,
that he peeps at other women,
that he keeps no Godly command,
he does not anymore know his Bible or God;
at the holy church he lost his job
when more and more people heard the gossip story,
he scolds himself that he is very stupid,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
His whole life is broken into pieces,
around him there is only confusing impressions,
it’s as if all his friends now are mocking him,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
He locks himself in his inner room
opens for nobody that knocks on the outside,
he finds no other work opportunity,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
During the night he is single, almost a monk
and he lives from dark moment to moment
is caught in time, feels dirty and rotten;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
There is another world in his poems,
in memories wandering, searching faces
and dreams of some deliverance are somewhat silly;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
He plants African marigolds, roses and jasmine;
feels the earth in his hands and too much pain,
he is broken and almost bankrupt;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
poem by Gert Strydom
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For the people Of Palestine
In a holy land, with a strange feeling
A strange and calm feeling that comes from the heart of people
People who live pure, people who are valuable and kind
People who are great and faithful, men and women with beautiful minds
Their sky was calm a day, it was full of white pigeons
Pigeons which were the messengers of peace
A blue sky that was above a golden place
A place that was full of happy face
Green lands and greener islands with warm sunny farms
Happy people who don't think about a simple fight
Streets full of cheerful children and cars
But the time brings an unfair war
Some people think power can take everything from poor people
But it never can conquer the faith
Faith will destroy every satanic thing
It can bring bad things down, even the powerful kings
Farms destroyed under the boots of soldiers
They close their eyes and burst fire on the poor and innocent children of Palestine
Their laugh destroy that empty sky
Satanic plans those we know all are a lie! ! !
Power Vs Faith
Guns Vs Stones
Bullets Vs people
And Blood on the feeble
When a pure stone flies, a bullet tears the sky to hit for the answer
And then a heart that once was for a human stop beating
The truth is being hiding in our world
We should help the people of Palestine, not with our words! !
Where are the humans right protectors?
Where are the people who are loyal to humanities criteria?
Where are the humans to see a family that sleep with fear?
Where is a person to clean the children tears?
We have a ceiling to sleep in peace under it
We have security, we live in peace
But there…, suddenly the roof of a house will fall down
When they think they are sleeping in peace, they buried in the dawn
In the Name of Humanity, don't be silent
See the truth; see the pure bodies those just fell down
See the tears of mothers those live in stress
See the great unfair condition, see the real mess!
For the people of Palestine
People who live in a cruel situation
For the people of Palestine,
People who their rights are taken, , people with no sin!
poem by Ellias Anderson
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Whiskey To Words
sat in a painful place going through it
thinking all about that last audition
and I'm wishing that I never blew it
this dark night with whiskey in my system
has made me write, it did, and I knew it.
Dec is gone I wish he didn't do it!
I pray for artists not to be so hurt
and I prayed that I din't have to see
Decs coffin being carried into church,
I prayed for it not to be in the dirt.
I wish that things wern't so hard in this world.
and I wish my mum didn't have to work
I want her to be in a sunny place,
I'm sinking seeing people that I love
as they are sinking from the pooring rain
its hard to believe I will never see
or share a stage with Alexis again!
I wish, I wish, that I could get through this.
I wish the police could see that not all youths
are bad cause they wear hoodys and tracksuits.
God bless all the single mums on late shifts
the dark night we walk wouldn't be scary
if we burnt all pedoes and rapists!
and I know I can't make it all happen
but the rimes flow and the truth it hits me
it poors out as I poor out the whiskey
I always want to find a better place
if you want it too you can come with me
but sometimes people don't understand you
so for all the people who didn't believe
from the bottom of my heart I thank you
cause if you ignored me I won't blank you,
Cause I'm gone and don't know where to go
I found this drink in the kitchen cupboard
to drown my sorrows cause I feel so low!
wondering if this is how Declan felt?
Alone at home its like no one will help
not got money to go out its a joke
but it isn't funny cause I'm broke
I write this, read it back and I have my hope.
poem by Daniel McCann
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An elegy for South Africa
Weep South Africa
as you are no longer my country
and I live here
as if I am
from another planet
as part of a small minority
in a country where dark Africa
declares murderers as heroes
and act like barbarians
and dance and scream.
At a time the orange, white and blue
streamed proud over you
and people at work,
school to parliament
bended their knees to God
who was their supreme leader
right through hordes
at blood river,
the onslaught of the British Empire
and with God on our side
we would quarter
for nobody and nothing.
Our own culture flowered,
children went through schools
right through university
to distinguish themselves
and you could even leave the doors unlocked,
could make a living somewhere,
the police were a servant and a friend
and we under our own rule.
How many times our ancestors
tried to teach other people of God,
distributed medicine and food
and we even faced
the communists and Cubans in Angola,
till on a day a man
for the wide world a hero,
out of our own ranks betrayed his brothers
and he laid the whole country lame
and didn’t sell it out,
but rather gave it away.
Today incompetents are everywhere in control
of state departments
right through into the parliament,
money is squandered,
a whole generation
through their own choosing
did not receive any school education,
whites are affirmed and impoverished by the law
and criminals and foreigners stream in
from all over Africa
to start a new life here.
Today another Afrikaner son is slaughtered
(one of more than three thousand) ,
what happens tomorrow and the next day?
[Reference: Murder on Eugene Terreblance. General condition in the country.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Peace XVIII
The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field. The stars appeared as broken remnants of lightning, but now silence prevailed over all, as if Nature's war had never been fought.
At that hour a young woman entered her chamber and knelt by her bed sobbing bitterly. Her heart flamed with agony but she could finally open her lips and say, "Oh Lord, bring him home safely to me. I have exhausted my tears and can offer no more, oh Lord, full of love and mercy. My patience is drained and calamity is seeking possession of my heart. Save him, oh Lord, from the iron paws of War; deliver him from such unmerciful Death, for he is weak, governed by the strong. Oh Lord, save my beloved, who is Thine own son, from the foe, who is Thy foe. Keep him from the forced pathway to Death's door; let him see me, or come and take me to him."
Quietly a young man entered. His head was wrapped in bandage soaked with escaping life.
He approached he with a greeting of tears and laughter, then took her hand and placed against it his flaming lips. And with a voice with bespoke past sorrow, and joy of union, and uncertainty of her reaction, he said, "Fear me not, for I am the object of your plea. Be glad, for Peace has carried me back safely to you, and humanity has restored what greed essayed to take from us. Be not sad, but smile, my beloved. Do not express bewilderment, for Love has power that dispels Death; charm that conquers the enemy. I am your one. Think me not a specter emerging from the House of Death to visit your Home of Beauty.
"Do not be frightened, for I am now Truth, spared from swords and fire to reveal to the people the triumph of Love over War. I am Word uttering introduction to the play of happiness and peace."
Then the young man became speechless and his tears spoke the language of the heart; and the angels of Joy hovered about that dwelling, and the two hearts restored the singleness which had been taken from them.
At dawn the two stood in the middle of the field contemplating the beauty of Nature injured by the tempest. After a deep and comforting silence, the soldier said to his sweetheart, "Look at the Darkness, giving birth to the Sun."
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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