13 Januarie 2017

Die son skyn mooi

dis laat alreeds.

Nes my denke, lê die strate rooi

alles raak duideliker, duideliker steeds.

Vanaand as die storm in jou gaan lê,

hoop ek jy dink tog aan my:

Die vinnige oë,

die stil mond.

Vir haar ‘n rits goue lint

en sy bring haar voet na bo

1, 2 om haar enkel gebind

jy, jy laat my weer in liefde glo.

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