Now that you want to go away
For generations blood flowed,
and my ancestors fought
for this country to be their own
and it was asked from me
to carry a machinegun.
Still my country was given away
and opportunities with it
and what belongs to me,
robbers claim as their own
without the police trying to stop them.
My friends have left and gone into the world
and are far away from me
that still stays in South Africa
and now you my darling
also want to go away
to another place
that looks much better to you.
Maybe it will be much better
to read the newspaper somewhere else,
to paint brush strokes,
to compose music
and to play the piano and guitar
and to say your thoughts in poems
at another place,
but is it asking too much
that merit prevail for everyone
and to have my country back again?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your name will not carry another meaning for me
Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,
as a place where people serve criminal kings
and even if they throw the South away and it becomes just Africa
with foreigners streaming in, I do not go out to hurt you,
even if we feel that we deserve a better country.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,
as a place where we have to ask God for help
in injustice, revolt and a loss of national dignity
where white people by force loose their own possessions
because I am born to you like my ancestors, my South Africa.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let South Africa be our country again
Let South Africa be our country again
and South Africans from all over the world
stream back,
to dream here like before,
to hope, to wish
of a place
not bordered of by burglar bars
where people can stay free
before God and man.
Let merit and respect be present
and people receive what they deserve
rather than expecting affirmative-action
and mercy from others
and the whole world
and like in the past
let us successfully do our own thing.
Let opportunities really exist
to be free in work,
living and association,
to study in your own language,
let us pull the teeth of the dogs
that rips others apart to rule,
of might that shatters the weak.
Let the animal inside us die
and we really become people
that does not burn each other,
crush and vituperate
and in groups jeering urge the killing on
and do not rob, but work
for the life that we have got.
Let we break the chains
of people ruling
with profit, might
and work people into the ground
and misuse others to gain prosperity.
I am the white Afrikaner that had to fight in war
and now are unemployed and hungry,
while I have a university degree.
I am the black man that without education
have to dig holes and man garbage trucks
and conclude my life in a shack.
I am the coloured that always stand between all groups
and do not know where I belong
and rather gather in gangs.
I am the South African that life
drives down the whole time
and have to pray all the time,
to know how to carry on.
l’Envoi
Still, I am the one that dream
of a country free from crime,
where everybody have equal opportunity,
where rape, corruption
and lawlessness ends
and where South Africa is our country again.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When times are bad
When times are bad
and I am with my hands in my hair
and black foreigners from all over Africa
overnight becomes citizens
and have more rights as a citizen than me
and affirmative action
puts her claws into my life
then I wonder about justice
and when merit and experience
will ever again apply
where my ancestors Joost Strydom
from Liefenshoek in the Netherlands
as a merchant seaman of the VOC
in 1678 came to Cape Town,
married his pretty well know wife
Maryna Ras who with a horse
could alone ride days long to Cape Town
with whom noblemen tried to have relationships,
where the indigenous zulu-xhosa-pondo-swazi people
are originating from a group
that during the same time
immigrated far away out of the north
from eMbo at the big lakes in central Africa
under the leadership of Nguni and later Dlamini
and then I wonder how
this country rather belongs to them
and they have to have work opportunities before me
and if you now say anything
about the new migration out of the whole of Africa
for which the country’s borders are now wide open
(in such a way that South Africans
must now get visas for Great Britain)
you are seen as xenophobic
and then there are citizens from right over Africa
who become South Africans overnight
attaining more rights than you
who forced by law
get secure job opportunities
and do people from Mozambique murder
Eugene Terreblance,
drug dealers from Nigeria
are caught by the local police
while against your will
you were forced into an army, into a war
still faithfully pay your taxes
when and where you have a job
and the current government
tries to stay in power
while Aids devours its voter numbers
and you as a white man
are despised by the current regime,
are treaded into the ground
while the country are falling to pieces
and then you pray
to Him (the God of the universe) who controls everything
to drastically intervene
rather than rousing people
for a civil war.
[Reference: VOC Verenigde Oost Indiëse companje.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tired Old Country Song
Regi price/jl vanderford
Another day, another night
Another tired old country song
You know, I sing of love delight
But I know its all wrong
The life I live out on the road
Is one I swear no one could love
Yet I feel I must go on
And sing this tired
This tired old country song
I move around from place to place
But all the towns look just the same
I see the same old face
Losin still my claim to fame
Ill sing the guitar blues
Drink my drink and pay the dues
Then I guess Ill ramble on
And sing this tired
This tired old country song
Why did I have to compromise
To reach my piece of the fame?
Life could have been so different
In that eight to five game
So I guess Ill settle down
Get my feet back on the ground
Once a country star
Now Im just a country clown
Hang my guitar on the wall
I wont need it anymore
For I think the time has come
To end this tired
This tired old country song
To end this tired
This tired old country song
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
Deep down in louisianna
Close to new orleans,
Way back up in the woods
Among the evergreens,
There stand a country cabin
Made of clay and wood,
Where lives a young country boy
Named johnny b.goode,
He never ever learned
To read or write a book so well,
But he could play his guitar
Just like a-ringing a bell.
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
He used to carry his guitar
In a gunny sack,
Sit beneath the trees
By the railroad track.
Oh sitting and a-playing
In the shade,
Drumming to the rhythm
That the drivers made.
People passing by
Used to stop and say:
My oh my,
That country boy can play.
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
Well his mama told him:
Someday you will be a man.
And you will be the leader
Of a big old band.
Many people coming
From miles around,
To hear you play your music
Till the sun goes down.
Maybe some day
Your name will be in light,
Saying: johnny
B. goode tonight!
Go go, go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Go johnny go go go!
Aah johnny b.goode!
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
Deep down in louisiana close to new orleans,
Way back in the woods among the evergreens
There in an old cabin made of earth and wood
There lived a country boy named johnny b. goode.
He never learned to read or write so well,
But he could play a guitar like ringin' a bell.
Go go, go johnny go, go; go johnny go, go;
Go johnny go, go; go johnny go, go; go johnny b. goode.
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack,
Go sit up in the trees by the railroad track.
The engineers seen him sittin' in the shade
Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made.
People passin' by would stop and say
"my my, but that little country boy can play!"
His mamma told him "someday you will be a man."
You will be the leader of a big old band
Many people comin' from miles around
To hear you play your music when the sun goes down.
Maybe someday your name will be in lights.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
way down louisiana close to new orleans, way back up in the woods among the evergreens... there stood a log cabin made of earth and wood, where lived a country boy name of johnny b. goode... he never ever learned to read or write so well, but he could play the guitar like ringing a bell. go go go johnny go go go johnny b. goode. he use to carry his guitar in a gunny sack and sit beneath the trees by the railroad track. oh, the engineers used to see him sitting in the shade, playing to the rhythm that the drivers made. people passing by would stop and say oh my that little country boy could play his mama told him someday he would be a man, and he would be the leader of a big old band. many people coming from miles around to hear him play his music when the sun go down maybe someday his name would be in lights saying johnny b. goode tonight.
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods amongst the evergreens
There stood an old cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
That never ever learned to read and write so well
But he could play a guitar just like ringing a bell
Go go. Go Johnny go
Johnny B. Goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
Old engineer sitting in the shade
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made
The people passing by would stop and say
'Oh my but how that little country boy could play'
Go go. Go Johnny go
Johnny B. Goode
His mother told him some day you will be a man
And you will be the leader of a big old band
Many people coming from miles around
To hear you play your music till the sun goes down
Maybe someday your name will be in lights
song performed by by Judas Priest from Ram It Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
He came from louisiana, close to new orleans
Way back up in the woods up near the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named johnny b. goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play the guitar just like a ringing a bell
Go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Johnny b. goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunney sack
And sit beneath the trees by the railroad tracks
Engineers would see him sittin' in the shade
Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made
And people passing by would stop and say
My my but that little country boy can play
Go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Go johnny go go
Johnny b. goode
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny B. Goode
This song was first released on the john denver album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Way down in louisiana close to new orleans
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin mad of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy name of johnny b. goode
He never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringin' a bell
Go, go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go johnny b. goode
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
The engineers would see him sittin' in the shade
Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by would they would stop and say
Oh my but that little country boy can play
Go, go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go, go, go johnny go
Go, go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny b. goode
Well his mama told him some day you will be a man
You will be the leader of a big old band
Many people comin' from miles around
Just to hear you play your music till the sun go down
Maybe some day your name will be in lights
Sayin' johnny b. goode tonight
Go, go, go, go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go, go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny go
Go, go johnny b. goode
Words and music by chuck berry
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You colour my life
You colour my life
with new thoughts, with music
with poems that your write
and paint brush strokes, like magical signs
right across my body
and now I miss you
while I remember all the beautiful things
and we are far apart
as if you are lost
and we now live in to different worlds
and still there is a special place
where I find you in my thoughts
and I wonder if you are missing me?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cry my beloved SOUTH AFRICA
Cry My Beloved Country
When Tragedy Strikes
When Sorrow Prevails
And NATURE Smite you So Hard
All Bowing Heads
Be yourself to the Rest of us
My beloved Country 'South Africa'
Don't compromise with NAGATIVE thoughts
By allowing anger to rule you
And your Emotions to control you
Stay stable and Positive
Smile when you meet ultimate challenges
To make you STRONG
Don't Rebuke Innocent dust
And Hold your CRASHES on sun
A Joy of mankind is KIND
Be yourself to the rest of us
My beloved country 'South Africa'
I know you will make it
poem by Jacques Sprenkie Mateya
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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God's Country
God’s country is a place between,
The two great seas.
God’s country is a forest,
Of evergreens and pines.
God’s country is a homeland,
Not tarnished by incredulity,
But shined by hospitality,
God’s country is a hunting ground,
And a young boy’s home.
God’s country is a masterpiece,
Of smelted man and nature,
And of pride, love, and sacrifice.
poem by Christian Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The exiles
As an exile I live
in a country that despises me,
despises my whole nation, our language,
the colour of our skin
where the president
has opened the doors wide
to all of Africa,
and citizens from other countries
are more welcome here than us
but even if he tries
to drive me and my people
into the sea, as immigrants
right into the wide world,
like my ancestors
I have sprouted from this very earth
and there’s no other place
where I can make a living,
no other place that calls me
with the same intensity
and although work is being reserved
by the colour of skin
and my patience is running very thin
and I struggle to survive
in the situation that I am in
no highfalutin balderdash
of this country only belonging
to those who are black
is going to break my people or me
and still we trust God,
to change circumstances,
to change the mindset op people,
and if not to conquer and destroy
to make this country a place
in which all its citizens
have the opportunity
to make a living
and to be free in speech,
in dignity, in association,
in religious beliefs,
to live a life
according to your own culture and values.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tearin Up The Country
Playin a pavilion on the outskirts of town,
Playin where my roller derby rolls.
Just a part time music man, a nobody at the plant,
Im tearin up the country with a song.
Mom and papa told me son, you gotta go to school;
Only way to make the famly proud.
I paid no attention, left my books at home,
Rather play my music real loud.
Tearin up the country with a song.
Tearin up the country with a song.
I paid no attention, left my books at home,
Rather play my music real loud.
Play it loud, now! woo!
Tearin up the country with a song.
Tearin up the country with a song.
I paid no attention, left my books at home,
Rather play my music real loud.
Ran into a dry spell, seemed nowhere to go.
Good luck turned the tide, Im on my way.
I remember loadin big trucks when the summer sun was hot,
You know I could still be there, but Im not.
Tearin up the country with a song.
Tearin up the country with a song.
I remember loadin big trucks when the summer sun was hot,
You know I could still be there, but Im not.
Tearin up the country with a song.
Im tearin up the country with a song.
I remember loadin big trucks when the summer sun was hot,
You know I could still be there, but Im not.
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Submission (in answer to Don Mattera)
I have seen a white old man and woman
turned onto the street,
living in cardboard boxes
with their small white dog
in the new disastrous improved South Africa,
I have seen white people taking their own lives
when black mine owners robbed them of salaries
and there was no job to get,
no living to be made
and they did this
instead of starting to beg.
I have seen white men and women
with university degrees
leaving the country
in numbers that are more than a million
to find a place to have a life
somewhere else in a foreign country,
I have waited for more than a hour queuing
at a local bank to make a cash deposit,
as a payment to someone
and the way that things are going,
with the black economic empowerment
and people not up to doing a simple job,
soon all of private industry
will be falling apart
as the government departments are doing.
I have noticed friends and family members
who were robbed, hijacked in their vehicles,
raped, tortured and killed
while the South African Police
did their very best to make a arrest
and like in all other things
are not up to it.
I know people who live in despair,
who are totally without hope
while the country’s borders
are flung wide open
to the rest of Africa
to first have a chance at a job
and their degrees and experience
in the face of this means nothing
but not one does bend
under the black heel to submission,
at the mercy of God
their lives go on…
[Reference: “Submission” by Don Mattera.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone Country
Shes been playing in a room on a strip
For ten years in vegas
Every night she looks in the mirror
But she only ages
Shes been reading about nashville and all
The records that everybodys buying
Says Im a simple girl myself
Grew up on long island
So she packs her bags to try her hand
Says this might be my last chance
Shes gone country, look at them boots
Shes gone country, back to her roots
Shes gone country, a new kind of suit
Shes gone country, here she comes
Well the folk scene is dead
But hes holding out in the village
Hes been writing songs speaking out
Against wealth and privilege
He says i dont believe in money
But a man could make him a killin
Cause some of that stuff dont sound
Much different than dylan
I hear down there its changed you see
Theyre not as backwards as they used to be
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, back to his roots
Hes gone country, a new kind of suit
Hes gone country, here he comes
He commutes to la
But hes got a house in the valley
But the bills are piling up
And the pop scene just aint on the rally
He says honey Im a serious composer
Schooled in voice and composition
But with the crime and the smog these days
This aint no place for children
Lord it sounds so easy it shouldnt take long
Be back in the money in no time at all
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, back to his roots
Hes gone country, a new kind of suit
Hes gone country, here he comes
Yeah hes gone country, a new kind of walk
Hes gone country, a new kind of talk
Hes gone country, look at them boots
Hes gone country, oh back to his roots
Hes gone country
Hes gone country
Everybodys gone country
Yeah weve gone country
The whole worlds gone country
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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