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.

 

 

 

 

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