So stadig loop ons deur die pers Jakarandas wat val,die bome word kaal Pa staar na die beeld van Botha wat reis op sy perd,Hy wonder was bloed soveel werd.Soveel jare dra hy aan die naam van 'n plek,Soveel jare moet ons nou laat gaan,Is die naam dan so erg,so bitter en sleg?Hoekom gooi jul dit weg?
Had I the heavens embroider'd cloths,
I would spread the cloths under your feet.
But I being poor, have only my dreams,
So tread softly, for you tread on my life.
I just write poetry to throw my mean callous heartless exterior into sharp relief. I’m going to throw you off the ship anyway. — Vogon Captain (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
