"helde" poems - Hello Poetry

Trek my siel uit met swart onlogiese krapmerke op my pick n pay strokie. Breek my fingers af op n hout skryf blad en hou die honde naby vir die bene wat spat. Vermergel dan my vellies en gooi dit op n graf en se dis vir al die girlys -dis van papers wat smag. Edel en opreg is die regter se kaf. Heilig is die helde van die bars van die nag. Ons onthou die spoke van Oranje stad, Ons kleef aan hulle woorde soos n tros vol kak. Ons hou van die serries en die doef van Jak, En moenie met my stry nie ek sal jou in pak. Melodie jou wysie met ewige tone, mengel mooi jou woordtjies met jou oulike drome. Hou die fort van veiligheid en nasionalisme, Wees n patriot en vermoor Anglisisme. Beskerm jou mother language teen n kombuis taal. Daar is niks in hierdie wereld wat die taal mag vaal.

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Jan 25, 2010

Jan 25, 2010 at 8:55 PM UTC

cry-sebastian

Die Digter -Afrikaans

Trek my siel uit met swart onlogiese krapmerke op my pick n pay strokie. Breek my fingers af op n hout skryf blad en hou die honde naby vir die bene wat spat. Vermergel dan my vellies en gooi dit op n graf en se dis vir al die girlys -dis van papers wat smag. Edel en opreg is die regter se kaf. Heilig is die helde van die bars van die nag. Ons onthou die spoke van Oranje stad, Ons kleef aan hulle woorde soos n tros vol kak. Ons hou van die serries en die doef van Jak, En moenie met my stry nie ek sal jou in pak. Melodie jou wysie met ewige tone, mengel mooi jou woordtjies met jou oulike drome. Hou die fort van veiligheid en nasionalisme, Wees n patriot en vermoor Anglisisme. Beskerm jou mother language teen n kombuis taal. Daar is niks in hierdie wereld wat die taal mag vaal.

19

Met boeke vol helde, soos ek en jy Potgieter, Trichardt, Smuts, Kruger selfs De LaRey Almal met die doel, om hul volk te bevry, Die Afrikaner, uit te brei Om hul families, van leiding te bevry Selfs, De LaRey ‘n Lafhart, wou eers nie beklei Later die held, wat die boere, verder wou lei Familie man, vader seun broer en gesant Ja, die mense was ook bang Maar met passie, Met drang Met dit wat slange vang Het hulle als aangevang Kyk na jou vriend Kyk na jou maat Kyk na die, anderkant die straat Dis jy, wat hul toekoms baat Dis jy, wat hul vereen, ou maat Die Afrikaners, was plesierig Dit, kan julle glo Nou gevul, net met gierig En al hul misnoe Ja, dit kan julle glo Waar is ons eendrag Waar is ons mag Waar is die dae, toe ons nog lekker kon lag Waar is ons helde, van vandag ‘n Held, in elkeen wat die taal verstaan Elkeen, wat n weg vir Afrikaans wil baan Elk, wat sy man wil staan vir die taal, wat min verstaan ‘n Kultuur, wat net ons verstaan ‘n Kultuur, so ryk aan helde soos ek en jy Helde, wat die Afrikaner wil bevry Helde, wat nie bang is om te baklei Helde, soos ek en jy!

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Oct 23, 2010

Oct 23, 2010 at 2:36 AM UTC

jeanlbouwer-1

WAAR IS ONS HELDE VAN VANDAG

Met boeke vol helde, soos ek en jy Potgieter, Trichardt, Smuts, Kruger selfs De LaRey Almal met die doel, om hul volk te bevry, Die Afrikaner, uit te brei Om hul families, van leiding te bevry Selfs, De LaRey ‘n Lafhart, wou eers nie beklei Later die held, wat die boere, verder wou lei Familie man, vader seun broer en gesant Ja, die mense was ook bang Maar met passie, Met drang Met dit wat slange vang Het hulle als aangevang Kyk na jou vriend Kyk na jou maat Kyk na die, anderkant die straat Dis jy, wat hul toekoms baat Dis jy, wat hul vereen, ou maat Die Afrikaners, was plesierig Dit, kan julle glo Nou gevul, net met gierig En al hul misnoe Ja, dit kan julle glo Waar is ons eendrag Waar is ons mag Waar is die dae, toe ons nog lekker kon lag Waar is ons helde, van vandag ‘n Held, in elkeen wat die taal verstaan Elkeen, wat n weg vir Afrikaans wil baan Elk, wat sy man wil staan vir die taal, wat min verstaan ‘n Kultuur, wat net ons verstaan ‘n Kultuur, so ryk aan helde soos ek en jy Helde, wat die Afrikaner wil bevry Helde, wat nie bang is om te baklei Helde, soos ek en jy!

37

When Michael Collins came, first from the courts of England, which in low and lofty Londoun lately were helde, while Thames there with treachery and treasoun did truly ring, was Ireland ill split and beset with ignoble stryfe. Yet there a land lately formed was, where still folk lyve on mydllerde. Though it is not in this warlike time of Dev that we our tale do set, after these tymes of troubling stryfe, contentioun salted still the land. Fine Fail and Fine Gael, then foes many yeres remained till noblest amongst them, in qualities none lacking, did do battle in old Dublin and vanquish the dred enemy. That mon who dreded nought, nightly then held his court in fair Dail Eirinn. Enda was called that man, and everysince has his noble courte endured. There, as Chrystmasse came, was assembled his cabinet fayre: there Sir Wilmore the red, who waited on the grete lorde in readiness. There with grete courtesey, the kings coins to keep, sat Sir Noonan the balde. There Sir Reilly, learned in lore of leach and herb, who on erde had little left to lerne. Eek Sir Varadkar the gaye who granted was, the grete kinges horses to groome. Laste, the lovely layde Burton, who, the rede rose of Wilmore would long after carry. Other knyghtes numerous were there, but of these now, nought will I tell, for fallen to feasting were this fayre companye al and fayne would I not, in tedious trials of descriptioun, your patience for to trye.

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Feb 6, 2015

Feb 6, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC

IgnatiusBrabazon

The Tale of Sir Enda, prologue

When Michael Collins came, first from the courts of England, which in low and lofty Londoun lately were helde, while Thames there with treachery and treasoun did truly ring, was Ireland ill split and beset with ignoble stryfe. Yet there a land lately formed was, where still folk lyve on mydllerde. Though it is not in this warlike time of Dev that we our tale do set, after these tymes of troubling stryfe, contentioun salted still the land. Fine Fail and Fine Gael, then foes many yeres remained till noblest amongst them, in qualities none lacking, did do battle in old Dublin and vanquish the dred enemy. That mon who dreded nought, nightly then held his court in fair Dail Eirinn. Enda was called that man, and everysince has his noble courte endured. There, as Chrystmasse came, was assembled his cabinet fayre: there Sir Wilmore the red, who waited on the grete lorde in readiness. There with grete courtesey, the kings coins to keep, sat Sir Noonan the balde. There Sir Reilly, learned in lore of leach and herb, who on erde had little left to lerne. Eek Sir Varadkar the gaye who granted was, the grete kinges horses to groome. Laste, the lovely layde Burton, who, the rede rose of Wilmore would long after carry. Other knyghtes numerous were there, but of these now, nought will I tell, for fallen to feasting were this fayre companye al and fayne would I not, in tedious trials of descriptioun, your patience for to trye.

22