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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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