Chris van der Westhuizen

Skielik was dit nag.
My oë, in donkerte -
swart vetkruit gedoop.
O heng, is daar hoop?

So skeitbang, al voel-voel,
deur die huis geskarrel,
op soek na die eintste...
Na lig - maar ek dwarrel.

Tone gestamp en knee -
o wee!
Op soek na die einste ding
wat lig op die onderwerp bring.

Kerslig!
Sommer gou aangesteek.
Man, hoe desperaat was ek
om lig teen donker te meet.

Die spook teen die muur
was deur Duisternis gehuur.
Was ek nou lekker bang
vir my jas wat daar hang.

Hoe lekker voel ek nou,
en skielik weer veilig.
Al is dit net ’n enkele
kers wat als verlig.

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002

Where’s the Candle

Suddenly it was night.
My eyes, dipped in darkness,
like black boot polish thick -
Oh heck, is there hope to pick?

So scared, I crept and stumbled,
feeling my way like a mole.
Searching for that one thing…
Some light - but I lost control.

Stubbed my toes and knees,
oh please!
Just trying to find that little spark
that lights things up when it’s dark.

Candlelight!
Quickly struck and lit -
Man, I was desperate
to make the dark admit defeat.

The shadow on the wall -
hired by Darkness, no doubt.
I freaked out completely
at my coat just hanging about.

Now I feel safe again,
suddenly all feels right.
Even if it's just one little
candle shining in the night.

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002 (Translated from Afrikaans)