Die voorouers is dood. Somige begrawe en vergeet. Tuine langs sand paaie fluister poëties, reën soos trane van verlange wat gewaai word deur die wind. Terwyl ons staan en kyk.
(The ancestors are dead. Some buried and forgotten. Gardens along sandy paths whisper poetic; rain like tears of longing, blown by the wind. As we stand watching.)
(The ancestors are dead. Some buried and forgotten. Gardens along sandy paths whisper poetic; rain like tears of longing, blown by the wind. As we stand watching.)
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