En.Citatepedia^®.ro

False Bay (Collins sestet)

(after Matthew Arnold)

Tonight over the sea there are small lights,
Cape Town against Table Mountain lying bright
where it is flat against the evening sky
and in the distance a liner passes by
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

The stream of life did into the sea go
with joy, grace and hope in its ebb and flow
but debris, broken pieces are washed ashore
with pollution caught in the breaking roar
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

Stars sparkle and the light wind furls through your hair
while on the beach we are the only pair
and you swear to be true eternally,
a bright beacon in the darkness we see
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

[Reference: “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Table Bay (Cavatina Sequence)

(after Matthew Arnold)

The sea lies flat like a huge lake tonight
but for the spray
that is endlessly sweeping in and out
on the white bay,
some couples walk on the beach
on holiday;
holding their hands under a yellow moon,
some bright beacons and stars will be out soon.

In the distance Table Mountain rises
its huge old bulk,
is gigantic black and flat against the sky
like a ship's hulk
where it marks the African continent;
sails of yachts sulk
as they lie limp in the windless great harbour
while tranquil people are home from labour.

Lights gleam far away at sea, are passing,
with a long lost
feeling of the great endlessness; as waves
fling, churn and toss
the hopes, fears and happiness of nations;
the great-great cost
of ending impoverishment, the ills
of vast centuries as destiny wills.

At a time faith and the will to be great,
did flow to sea,
like rivers in torrents that did rush in;
people were free
from the wars on the great black continent,
no destiny
could harass the nations, the pyramids,
that any living it now does forbid.

Like waves endlessly crushing on the beach,
and never spent
drawing back again, rushing to and thro
the sheer moment
between us has something that is lasting;
evanescent,
with some joys in our mutual discourse
life also flows to its ultimate course.

[Reference: 'Dover Beach' by Matthew Arnold.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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While You Are With Me

When Adam and Eve lived in Eden
the sea of faith stretched out into the blue
meeting the sky’s canopy
and its waves pulsed anciently
gathering water from the stream of life
and love, grace even the power of man
seemed at that time as to be unlimited
as if life could stretch on into eternity

Tonight the wind is blowing through the window
moving the curtains in a tender breeze
and in the distance I can hear the ebb and flow
in which the waves continually go
and the moon is casting light
that stretches out over the endless ocean

Your breath touches my breast and face softly
and I read true happiness in the smallest things
see your breasts rising and subsiding
while the sea is continually flinging
grains of sand crushing on the distant beach
and though sometimes it feels as if out of reach
happy moments are lingering
while you are with me

[Reference: “Dover beach” by Matthew Arnold.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Table Bay [2]

I can hear the waves roar,
slamming shingle on the rocks, the beach
drawing in and out
on Bloubergstrand
and the cadence is a age old shuddering
of waves breaking, continuing like before

and in the distance Table Bay
lies stretched out specked with
hundreds of little lights
like a enormous crown

with the flat mountain top
on display, etched against the night sky
and its full tide, the moon is full
yellow and magnificent

and the place of good hope,
lies on the shore
with waves breaking forever more
and lonely the beach stretches out before me,
in a long white ribbon
and the dark water goes out to the horizon,
almost as far as I can see

and the sea wind is fresh and new
and there's no light in sight
on the wavering ocean
just a darkness that envelopes me
as the waves
are throwing pebbles out
and drawing them in
before breaking on the beach

and there's nobody to be true to,
nobody to trust, only the reality of the here and now
and all hope, all promises, all joy and pain
remains the same
swept in and out of a confused world
forever breaking, forever rushing in.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Pride To Be An African

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in
Existence.

poem by Fasan paul
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Dreams, Stars, and You

Broken dreams
Like distant stars

Still bright it seems
But so very far.

Like waves on a beach
That kiss the shore,

They are out of reach
Lost forevermore.

That dream is you...
So far and fleeting,

Like waves untrue
Love always leaving.



.........................................
August 2,2009
Philippines

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Fishing For Snoek (Un-Wreath Sonnet)

Somewhat slightly the shore, the lights ebb away
waves toss and play while the moon shines brightly
in darkness nightly the stars glitter over Table Bay
and the wind is blown only somewhat lightly.
Without mistake the boat furrows, up and down
holding its own spreads some foam in its wake,
in I take the vastness of great Cape Town,
God we trust; the sea lies flat as a lake
and its night, the swells are easier on us
like some dust hangs the early grey twilight,
it’s a sight deck-boards filled like a bus
and thus lines sing into the last of night
the boat is bright green with apparatus
going into action up to daylight.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Sandpiper (Cavatina)

(after Elizabeth Bishop)

The leaping spray that roar, the swishing fling
of surf and sand,
plays in and out as waves rush to and thro;
where it does stand
while searching for something on tiny legs;
it understands
the roaring toss, a world of surf and foam,
while rushing on the wet beach it does roam.

[Reference: 'Sandpiper' by Elizabeth Bishop.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Their Chosen Sport

Rollers breaking onto the beach,
Surfers riding high,
Battling with the waves as each
One, they dare defy.

Great excitement in this display,
Such skill and balance too,
Keeping atop the foaming spray,
A victory to pursue.

The Lifeguards keep a watchful eye,
As they perform their art,
To certain rules they must comply.
Before they even start.

With tanned physique they surf the tide,
While the spectators gaze,
And are the heroes of the glide,
And really do amaze.

On Bondi beach and Newquay's shore,
They gather for the thrill,
To brave the sea with its thunderous roar,
And take the occasional spill.

To beat the ocean's vertical towers,
Is a challenge some will face,
A man against the surging powers,
A dream they have to chase.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Funeral Dance

In Amerigo, Carnival was as hallowed as Christmas itself, perhaps slightly more
so.
There was a meaning to it. See, Islanders did not put into words, yet which
made it the authentic supreme day in the Kinjian calendar.
Africa was marching down the main street of this little harbor town today.
Africa, in undimmed black vitality, surging up out of centuries of island
displacement, island slavery, island isolation, island ignorance.
Africa, unquenchable in its burning love of life.
Carnival was Africa Day in Amerigo.

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hurricane Watch

Green. Green the leaves,
and waves gray on the forehead of the beach.

As easy as breeze tensing lengths of hair
waves lift, then snap back like springs.
Trees bend and kneel, fling out brown arms
to catch their running children.

Green. Green the leaves, and wind
pours on the forehead of the beach.

See how sand wrinkles in the lee,
and anchors part like lovers
from invisible chains. Ships break
then run their length to freedom.

Green. Green the weeds,
and sea foams on the forehead of the beach.

Women’s names swim to greet the waves.
And sea sings, “Eve. Eve. Eve.” Mermaid
who set her cap for them, she beckons each
figurehead to her pale and smiling reach.

Green. Green the waves,
and spray glistening on the forehead of the beach.

Her arms catch and embrace hulls like shoulders.
Bold as dolphins they leap to her lips before she
slaps away the face of any sailor so foolish.

Gray. Gray the waves, and flotsam
in pieces grinding on the wet stones of the beach.

poem by Val Morehouse
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Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow

Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
As in a sack some thing washed in:
And lay amidst the shells
And pebbles of the shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.

Ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
One eye was closed the other open
And on her golden hair
Were drops of red:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.

How many winters rude have skimmed
Their frozen fingers on the white breast
Of the pale moon-lit lake a-dreaming sound
How many a Spring of green
Has come and gone:
Since that ashore, ashore with the tide’s flow
The sea-waves washed her in
Her clothes that rich were tattered were
Unseemly with the smoke of cigars
And the drunk smell of alcohol
Her look was wild and sad and raw:
Wild lapped the sea-waves and the cloud
Frowned on the sea-shore
Amidst the lapping of the waters rude
And the sea-waves’ roar.

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Thank You My Africa

Thank You My Africa
For Giving Birth To Me
For All The Blessings
And For Choosing Me As Your Daughter.

Thank You My Africa
For Selecting Me To Represent
Everything That You Own
And Wherever I Go.

Thank You My Africa
For My Other Sisters And Brothers
For My Other Fathers And Mothers
And The Perfect Weather.

Thank You My Africa
For My Happiness And Dignity
The Love And Careness
For My Roots And Capability.

Thank You My Africa
I Love And Appreciates You
For Being A Good Samaritan To Foreign Countries
Because Of Everything They Go Through.

Thank You My Africa
For Your Capacity
For Your Originality
And Your Diversity.

Thank You My Africa
For Letting Me Overcome Old Pains
To Have Many Opportunities
Privileges, Luck And Alot More Gains.

Thank You My Africa
For The Light That Shines Through
And Even If They Call You Dark Africa
I Declare You As A Bright One Because You Are So True.

Thank You My Africa
For My Beautiful Curved Body
Which Represents All The Roads
The Mountains And Rivers In You.

Thank You My Africa
For I Come From You
And My Appreciation For All That
I Say; I Love You My Africa.

poem by Julius Adolf
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African Hope

Gather ye...Gather ye
Come...sit at the table of hope
Hear...hear...hear...

I am the hope for Africa's children.
When I can see light, Africa can see light
When I can hope, Africa can hope,
When I can learn, Africa can learn and
When I can smile, Africa can smile.
When I roar with the thunder of the mighty
Zambezi, Africa too...roars

Gather ye...Gather ye
I am the table of hope
Listen...listen...listen...

Within me lies ubuntu...yes ubuntu
Let me provide for you
Let me nourish you
Let me share with you
Let me shelter you
Let me inspire you to soar as the fish eagle does...yes soar

For I am Africa...Africa is me

poem by Martino Fortuin
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The Widening Sky

I am so small walking on the beach
at night under the widening sky.
The wet sand quickens beneath my feet
and the waves thunder against the shore.

I am moving away from the boardwalk
with its colorful streamers of people
and the hotels with their blinking lights.
The wind sighs for hundreds of miles.

I am disappearing so far into the dark
I have vanished from sight.
I am a tiny seashell
that has secretly drifted ashore

and carries the sound of the ocean
surging through its body.
I am so small now no one can see me.
How can I be filled with such a vast love?

poem by Edward Hirsch
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The storm that hangs threatening

From Margate beach
I see a ship sailing past,
with people that are
dots on it.

The summer sun is hot and high
but there’s a strong wind
that swishes over the sea
and waves that like white spectre horses,
curl and twist and rise foaming
and shattering
fall to death against rocks and the beach

On the horizon grey clouds hang ominous,
where a storm is rising
and the sky breaks the water.

I am caught up in a life
that is broken into pieces
and I wonder when
the storm is going to overwhelm me.

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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Oh Africa my Africa

Oh Africa my Africa land of diamonds. Oh africa my Africa land of great kings Shaka, Haile Silasi, mandela to name a few. Oh mother Africa my Africa rich in gold.oh Africa my africa full of beautful women. Yes africa my africa land of real nature.

poem by George mwandu
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The German Schwarzwald In The Forests Of Knysna

Africa, I love Africa, my continent, Africa
my beautiful country comprising the beauty
of Provençe in the Cape’s Ceres Valley, the
majestic Swiss Alps in the Drakensberg, the
German Schwarzwald in the forests of Knysna

Africa, I love Africa, I love the Africans,
wearing my blanket like the Matabele, doing
a Zulu dance in moments of glory, dabbling
in Fanagalo as spoken in kampongs, trying to
imitate Khoisan clicks in my songs

Africa, I love Africa, I love the cultural mélange
in South Africa mine, where the Atlantic meets the
Indian Ocean at the southernmost point, where Table
Mountain’s mist lives in my mind in the devil’s contest
to smoke with Van Hunk

Africa, I love Africa, where the Cape of Storms lives
in my heart in the tales of C.J. Langenhoven, written in
Afrikaans, the culture that gave birth to my people and
me, a mixture of French, German, Scottish, Dutch and
Irish forbears…

Africa, I love Africa, in the tale of the Little Hope
with tunic and crown, waiting impatiently at the Cape
of Good Hope for the arrival of southern nomads and
northern sea-farers; tales that inspire my thoughts,
burn in my dreams, filling my mind…

poem by Margaret Alice
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A Trustworthy Guardian

A lighthouse
stands lofty,
tall and straight,
erect in its stark
simplicity.

Its light
beams out
across the waves,
rotating,
warning all
who come too near
that the
face of death,
here, rears its ugly head.

With breakers crashing
onto the rocks
around its base,
and the spray lifting
forty feet or more,
one feels the force
of the water
as it plunges
back again
into the surging foam.

This beacon
is a constant
emission,
a guiding light
to all who venture
out upon the sea
in all kinds
of vessels.

Its light
pierces the darkness,
unrelenting in its
gyration,
sending a signal
to forewarn.

A vigilant
and trustworthy guardian,
and an assuagement,
for all those
mariners
who are
ocean bound.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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African Skies

You say youre surprised
I thought Id write today
Pieces of my life
That time cant fade away
Land lies dry - africa
And the clouds roll by - africa
I held you every night
I believed in all youd say
Now the dust blows in my eyes
But those dreams wont fade away
The sky burns red - africa
Dont you cry - africa
Africa
When you cry it rains - africa
Still the children smile - africa
When you cry it rains - africa
When the wild dogs howl - africa
Still the clouds roll by - africa
Written by : kerr/burchill reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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