De Zuidafrikaanse dichter en (oud-)verzetsstijder Dennis Brutus werd geboren op 28 november 1924 in Harare in Zimbabwe. Zie ook mijn blog van 28 november 2008 en ook mijn blog van 28 november 2009.
Prayer
O let me soar on steadfast wing
that those who know me for a pitiable thing
may see me inerasably clear:
grant that their faith that I might hood
some potent thrust to freedom, humanhood
under drab fluff may still be justified.
Protect me from the slightest deviant swoop
to pretty bush or hedgerow lest I droop
ruffled or trifled, snared or power misspent.
Uphold—frustrate me if need be
so that I mould my energy
for that one swift inenarrable soar
hurling myself swordbeaked to lunge
for lodgement in my life’s sun-targe—
a land and people just and free.
Sequence for South Africa
1.
Golden oaks and jacarandas
flowering:
exquisite images
to wrench my heart.
2.
Each day, each hour
is not painful,
exile is not amputation,
there is no bleeding wound
no torn flesh and severed nerves;
the secret is clamping down
holding the lid of awareness tight shut—
sealing in the acrid searing stench
that scalds the eyes,
swallows up the breath
and fixes the brain in a wail—
until some thoughtless questioner
pries the sealed lid loose;
I can exclude awareness of exile
until someone calls me one.

Dennis Brutus (28 november 1924 – 26 december 2009)
Lees verder “Dennis Brutus, Alexander Blok, William Blake, Carl Jonas Love Almqvist, Yves Thériault”








