Grandpa Danie Brand
When at sixteen
he had to survive in the field
many times he was hungry
he was delivered to the sun,
the wind and rain
and at times were half frozen,
but he took shots at Englishmen
(who burned their farm to the ground)
past when his gun barrel
were glowing white-hot
and burnt blisters on his hands
and those blisters
became open wounds
as he kept firing
and as a child
I saw those scars
and he was a man
who served God
and gave his tithe
and took good care of his workers,
but he could not tolerate an Englishman.
Still there’s something of him in me
to stand against
the oppression of my people
until it ends.
[Reference: Second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Grandpa Danie Brand [2]
After taking part
as a youngster of sixteen
in the second Anglo-Boer war
where he had to spend nights in the open veldt
fired so much on the British
that his hands were full of blisters
from the rifle
of which the barrel got white hot
he married Lenie Swanepoel in 1918,
was really in love with her
and from 1926 he farmed on the farm Welgemeen
near to Steekdoorns in the Vryburg district
where he himself build his own homestead
from Josef’s stone and put up fences
and turned the wild veldt
into a viable farm.
Grandpa Danie did not have time
to sit on the porch,
as it goes with farming,
work took his attention constantly
and before early morning light
he was already in the fields
or at the diary busy with the cows
but was held in high esteem by the labourers
although he was strict.
On a day grandpa Danie
visited another farmer
to buy Afrikaner cattle from him
and while they walked into the lounge
of the other farmer’s house
he lit his pipe
whereupon the other farmer said to him:
“Mister Brand, I do not allow anybody
to smoke in my house”
and it was a big embarrassment to him,
so much so that while he was riding home on his horse,
busy driving the cattle with his workers
he stopped at a big rock
that rose into the air
and knocked his pipe against it
causing it to break in two pieces
and it was also the last time
that grandpa Danie did smoke.
When he got appendicitis
and his appendix erupted
grandma Lenie took great care of him
nursing him back to health
but he continually got pain
when he ate maize
and his brother Frans
who lived in Johannesburg
convinced him
to have a appendectomy
whereupon dressed in his black coat
grandpa Danie left for the hospital in Vryburg
and at the hospital
grandpa Danie got inflammation
and died from the operation wound
that got septic,
in a time before antibiotics
was discovered.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A brave Field Cornet
From a hillock
two Boer commandoes
ride into an English camp
and a few of the British are shot,
a lot are caught
and most flee away.
In the direction of the Tuli river
the enemy are followed in haste
where they join comrades
driving a ox wagon
and the Boers are marksmen
and the English flee again
to find shelter in a farmhouse.
The house is shot to pieces
and for the third time on one day
the British flee again
and the next day,
the Boer commando captures nine wagons
with food and ammunition.
The day following Boer scouts
find an abandoned enemy camp
with burned out fires,
tents, horses and mules
and see a big cloud of dust
coming along in their direction.
There’s a Field Cornet
that does not ride away,
while two Boer commandos
escapes to safety.
At dusk Jacobus Potgieter
finds more men with a canon
set on a hillock
and with just more than twenty men,
he prepares
to give resistance to a huge enemy force.
The darker the night gets,
the nearer the cloud of dust comes
and Jacobus Potgieter and his men
are ready to shoot killing shots
and to let no Englishmen past them
and there’s a rambling sound,
but no enemy appear
and they are invaded
by a swarm of locusts.
[Reference: The “JJ Potgieter manuscript.” Second Anglo-Boer war. Boer commando= A group of Boer farmers in a citizen force militia under a Commandant (Lieutenant-Colonel) .]
poem by Gert Strydom
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In front of a firing squad
Japie almost burns himself
when he mess some coffee
and it’s still dark,
when at four o’clock one morning
British soldiers arrive
at the Greyling’s farm.
There’s an Afrikaner farm boy
standing against the wall
of a farm house
and English Captain Jack Seeley,
wants to know to where
his father’s Boer commando is going?
Japie Greyling refuses
to say anything about it
and Jack Seeley
order his men,
to aim at an Afrikaner boy.
Six British Martini Henri rifles
are pointed at a ten year old child
and he hears gunlock after gunlock
closing behind a bullet.
I ask you a last time
says the relentless Englishman
and a Boer boy
looks into death,
but still there’s nothing
that he lets out about his people
The British Captain keeps
walking nervously up and down
and the blue eyes
of a Boer boy,
cuts right through him
and the child says
let death then come,
but talk I wont.
All the British soldiers
are astounded by the courage
that comes from an Afrikaner child
and on command,
the rifles are lowered
before they ride away
and Japie Greyling
is left alive.
[References: Historic heroic story of Japie (Jacobus Johannes Cornelis) Greyling during the second Anglo-Boer war. The poem “Japie Greyling” by J.F.E Celliers. The book “Fear and Be Slain” by Jack Seeley.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Four young men (a reply to Ted Hughes)
The old brown and white photograph
of my grandfather and his brothers
fading somewhat after more than a century
show four young men
with sincerity and patriotism
written all over their faces,
dressed in captured kaki war uniforms
belted across their hips
with farmer’s hats on their heads
and bandoliers crossed over their chests,
and captured bayoneted
Martini Henri rifles in their hands
and I know the big old teak tree
where they stand
and one looks at his cocky best, one sharp and aware,
one earnest and sincere and all three of them
almost exactly like some cousins of mine
with the middle one closing his eyes slightly
against the bright light
with a fringe protruding from under the hat
and he could have been me
and the similarity is very striking
and at only sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and nineteen
as brothers on horses they rode to war,
and alive they all came back, thread thin
from being without food in the veldt,
with missing skin from their hands
blisters turning into open wounds
from shooting with white hot gun barrels
at forces of outnumbering large
British enemy soldiers
all marksmen, snipers and hunters
but mere farm boys.
[Note: The photograph is of my grandfather Danie Brand and his brothers. Six young men by Ted Hughes.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Can You Stand In The Rain
On a perfect day
I know that I can count on you
When thats not possible
Tell me can you weather the storm
cause I need somebody who will stand by me
Through the good times and bad times
She will always, always be right there
Chorus:
Sunny days
Everybody loves them
Tell me
Can you stand the rain
Storms will come
This we know for sure
Can you stand the rain
Love unconditional
Im not asking this of you
Weve got to make it last
Ill do whatever needs to be done
cause I need somebody who will stand by me
Through the good times and bad times
She will always, always be right there
Chorus
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
No pressure
No pressure from me baby
cause I want you
And I need you
And I love you
Will you be there for me?
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
Can you stand the rain
song performed by by Boyz II Men
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Good Old Days
We'd get up before sun-up to get the work done up
We'd work in the fields till the sun had gone down
We've stood and we've cried as we have bristly watched
A hailstorm a' beatin' our crops to the ground
We've gone to bed hungry many nights in the past
In the good old days when times were bad
Chorus:
No amount of money could buy from me
The memories that i have of then
No amount of money could pay me
To go back and live through it again
I've seen daddy's hands break open and bleed
And i've seen him work till he's stiff as a board
An' i've seen momma layin' in suffer and sickness
In need of a doctor we couldn't afford
Anything at all was more than we had
In the good old days when times were bad
We've got up before and found ice on the floor
Where the wind would blow snow through the cracks in the wall
And i couldn't enjoy then, havin' a boyfriend
I had nothing decent to wear at all
So i long for a love that i never had
In the good old days when times were bad
Repeat chorus
Tag:
In the good old days when times were bad
In the good old days when times were bad
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Good Times Come Again
Every rainbow has to have an end
A pot of gold or dreams foretold
May not be there my friend
In this high and mighty world we live in
Sometimes we have to break
Sometimes we have to bend
Until the good times come again
[Chorus:]
I'll see you then
When the good times come again
When you and I have made it back
From the people and the places we have been
I'll see you then
When the good times come again
The door that we go out of
Is door that we come in
When the good times come again
When the good times come again
Hope we both survive the world out there
You'll never know what wind will blow
So don't forget I care
And don't forget the way we felt together
Sometimes we have to hold
To all the good that's been
[Chorus 3x]
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Good Old Days (When Times Where Bad)
Wed get up before sun-up to get the work done up
Wed work in the fields till the sun had gone down
Weve stood and weve cried as we have bristly watched
A hailstorm a beatin our crops to the ground
Weve gone to bed hungry many nights in the past
In the good old days when times were bad
Chorus:
No amount of money could buy from me
The memories that I have of then
No amount of money could pay me
To go back and live through it again
Ive seen daddys hands break open and bleed
And Ive seen him work till hes stiff as a board
An Ive seen momma layin in suffer and sickness
In need of a doctor we couldnt afford
Anything at all was more than we had
In the good old days when times were bad
Weve got up before and found ice on the floor
Where the wind would blow snow through the cracks in the wall
And I couldnt enjoy then, havin a boyfriend
I had nothing decent to wear at all
So I long for a love that I never had
In the good old days when times were bad
Repeat chorus
Tag:
In the good old days when times were bad
In the good old days when times were bad
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At a pan at night
In the dark night I hear horse hoofs
coming on thundering
and there are sparks
bursting from the quartz rocks.
In the sky
there’s a sickle moon
and the hairs
on my arms raise
while blue thunder
fall like shots around me
and I can smell fire and sulphur
on the wind.
For a moment
while a church bell
rings of midnight in the distance,
there’s a horse standing neighing
on its back feet.
Just one look
frightens me past being awake
when another lightning bolt
strikes down next to us
and a horse
with a man without head
passes me at great speed.
In the distance at a ruin
I see an old woman in white
with a shrill voice
cutting through the night.
“Can nothing stop you
Jan van der Meer? ”
[Reference: Die ruiter van skimmelperdpan by A.G. Visser. A legend from the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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General Christiaan De Wet At Doornberg
(after David Naude)
In the dust lay de Wet's son;
he prayed to God, further did not say a word,
traitors came under a white flag,
spied for the British before the battle;
it was very sad to see
while a brave man served his country.
On his hands was his own son's blood
but he still gave courage to his men
causing the British and traitors to loose,
driving them back over the Zant River
winning more fame in the world's eyes
while a brave man served his country.
The British had fled past Winburg
to avoid general de Wet's commando,
some of the traitors were very scared
when the Boer commando captured them;
in de Wet's eyes God was still providing,
while a brave man served his country.
[Reference: 'Die slag van Doornberg' ('The battle at Doornberg' by David Naude.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Where Have All The Good Times Gone!
All my life Ive never stopped to worry 'bout a thing,
Open up and shout it out,an never try to sing,
Wondering if Ive done it wrong,
Will this depression last for long,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Once we had an easy ride and always felt the same,
Time was on our side and we had everything to gain,
This could be like yesterday,
Is thst me with your happydays,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ma and pa look back on all the things they used to do,
Never had no money and they always told the truth,
Daddy didnt need no little toys,
Mommy didnt need no little boys,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ow!
Yesterday was such an easy game for you to play,
Ah but then lets face it,things are easier today,
Yes you need some bringing down,
Get your feet back on the ground,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The mountain pass
There are bullets that draw sparking lines
on the rocks next to him
and in the mountain pass,
Jan Pieterse and ten men
stand to keep
the English back.
The smoke of shots being fired
hangs like fog around him
and gunlock after gunlock,
are cocked time after time
and Jan Pieterse and his men
shoot carefully while the morning’s dusk appears.
At the bottom a Boer commando
goes through the river’s ford
and there are horse hoofs resounding
and a liddite bomb,
explodes like a flaming star
in the grey air
before the sun rises.
The dust clears
and the commando rides away
and it’s just Jan Pieterse and one comrade,
that is still alive
and they give their horses full reigns.
It’s only Jan Pieterse that gets away
and he turns his horse around,
chase back into the bullets
and liddite bombs
to get his mate.
With his wounded comrade
hanging over the front of his saddle
Jan Pieterse and each Englishmen
experience the first red rays of the sun
and his horse walks slowly on,
as if no bullet can touch him there
and nothing can kill a Boer hero.
The English stop shooting
and cheer about the bravery
of a enemy Boer,
that disappears with rifle in his hand
over the horizon.
[References: The historic heroic story of Jan Pieterse during the second Anglo-Boer war. The poem “Rit-rympie” by Toon van den Heever.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Scars Of Our Past
you say you wana know me,
But do you really?
do you see who i am?
Do you see my scars?
look closer, their carves straight into my arm.
Do you see my pain, the tears, streaming down my face.
you hold me in your arms, tell me you care,
but do you really?
How?
Im covered in their filth from what they've all done to m, no matter how many times i shower the filth wont ever leave, it will never go away. cant you see the scars that my past have left behind.
But thats okay becasue today im choosing to make a stand im leaving my scars and past behind.
poem by Alicia Tschantre
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You Don't Care, You Can't Care
It's dark, dank and dreary
The Wind is cold and uncomforting
But I am just another Raindrop
That lands on your Leaves,
You stand rooted to the ground
Not even the Wind moves you
And the Rain touches you.
As I land on your Leaf,
Trying to retain, to remain there
Just for a second, to be a part of you;
The Wind blows me away 'whoosh'
And I am gone.
But you don't look back,
The Roots tell you 'no' as the
Wind continues to blow...
Lying on the ground, looking
Back up at what could have been
You stand there, alone, the
Wind howling, the Rain falling,
And you don't care,
You can't care. Is it the
Wind or the Rain? Or are you just too vain?
Strangely, stupidly, sadly; I
Give you another chance, I try
To talk to you, but you let the
Wind shake your Leaves, the
Rain fall on you, you watch
those Raindrops slide off you
Each and every one falls to the earth
You don't care, You can't care.
poem by E.D. French
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The Voortrekker (in answer to Tony Harrison)
A track from a kraal
goes direct into the veldt
decked in blood
from the remains of cattle.
The sick Boer walks alone,
now abandoned of dog,
children, farm labourers
with a.303 rifle wavering in his hands.
Somewhere in dense green bushes
in front of him to the right
lions roar and at speed
one, two and three more
appear with tails flashing like whips.
The rifle is still wavering in his hands
but an expert eye finds the sight
with the trigger at his finger tip,
the exploding sound of bullet after bullet
are followed by a whack and some great roars
and the lions are no more
and like his fathers protected in God’s hand,
although outnumbered many times
by natives and wild beasts
stand a lonely believing man.
[Reference: Voortrekker by Tony Harrison.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Are You Gonna Be There
If I was down
Would your arms lift me up to higher ground
With just the strength of your love
When I was lost
Would I find something in your eyes to lead me home
And if it all went wrong
Would you be there to hold
It's easy to be there through the good times
But when the times get hard
Would you stay or walk away
Chorus:
Are you gonna be there when the rain comes
Are you gonna be there with the water
Can you say you'll be there with the river
Are you gonna be there
Will you stand by my side through the bad times
Through whatever we'll be will you still be mine
Will you stay in my life for a lifetime
Are you gonna be there
When I need someone to hold
Someone there for me
Are you gonna be there
In all my world
If it should all fall down
Will you be there
Be there to turn it around
Will you still care
Can I depend on you to see me through this life
If it all goes wrong
Will you still make it right
It's easy to be there through the good times
But when the times get hard
Will you still be on my side
Chorus
When I need someone beside me
Someone there for me
Are you gonna be
There with the arms to hold me
There with the love I need
Then will you be there
Will you be there
Heart and soul
I need to know
Are you gonna be there
Are you gonna still care
(Are you gonna still care)
Are you gonna be there
Will you stand by my side
(Stand by my side)
Are you gonna be mine
Are you gonna be there
(Are you gonna be there)
Chorus (2x)
song performed by by N Sync
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sorceress
The storyteller is pierced with an arrow
and all the hunters are gone
as if they are part of the field
and the fire has been burnt out for a long time
and the red coals
has become white and cold
and the young girl
can now only hear the wind
that twists around with the sand devils
and blows storm strong past her ears
and there’s nothing that impresses her
and the beautiful words are gone
as if the wind is blowing it away
and only the wind stays with her
and she and the wind are both alone
and there’s red sand that hits her.
[Reference: => Die towenares by Eugene N Marais.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Workers Of America
Workers of America shout long and loud
As we work together hard and proud
We are the ones that built this great country of ours
From the strain on our backs and our blisters and scars
We were the ones to clear the fields and lay the tracks
We are the ones to build the cities and break our backs
And we are the ones to sweat and bleed and die
As we built this great country, which no one can deny
We work the factories, and the stores and the mills
We dig the ditches and collect the garbage to pay our bills
We are the ones to work in the snow and in the heat of the sun
If it wasn't for us the workers, no work would ever be done
It wasn't the politicians or the judges who built this great land
But it was the workers of America as destiny had planned
Also we are the ones to fight the fires and all the wars
When our elected officials send us away to foreign shores
And we are the ones to feed the deprived and the needy
While the rich man cares for no one, but himself and the greedy
Without us the workers this land or any land would certainly fall
As we are the one that mixes the mortar and builds the wall
We pay the taxes to keep America's heart beating
And we are the ones to keep America always competing
Workers of America look up, as GOD gives us a nod
And listen to the past, as our forefathers do applaud.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A Portrait in Georgia
Hair-braided chestnut,
coiled like a lyncher's rope,
Eyes-fagots,
Lips-old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath-the last sweet scent of cane,
And her slim body, white as the ash
of black flesh after flame.
poem by Jean Toomer
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Portrait in Georgia
Hair--braided chestnut,
coiled like a lyncher's rope,
Eyes--fagots,
Lips--old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath--the last sweet scent of cane,
And her slim body, white as the ash
of black flesh after flame.
poem by Jean Toomer
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