Poem in the original English, followed by translations to Xhosa and Afrikaans and back.
Blue light chases me.
My soul is cold,
spirit still dreaming.
In a meadow I roll down the hillocks
over and over,
my little sear suckered skirt frilly
over my still narrow hips.
A movie an angel might wish to watch
or a pederast.
Translation and edit:
In the meadow I roll down the hillock
my short skirt ruffled.
On my stretching back now,
a starlet with one hell of a fan.