Chris van der Westhuizen

Ek voel alweer onmoontlik sleg
hier in my hart van verstand.
Dis ’n worsteling wat soos
’n stormwind erg dwarrel.

’n Man, sy vrou en broer
smeek my vir kos en nog,
nog voor die voordeur eens
uit die gat kon klim.

Hul moë koue oë
gluur my honger aan.
Net sy vrou se oë
bly skaam grond toe staan.

Met sy effense drankasem
praat hy van God en
die Heilige Gees.
Ek wonder of hy vrees?

Ek wonder of dit nie net
’n desperate probeerslag is
om iets te kry wat
sy honger maag sal sus?

En of hy werklik glo?

Ek kry hulle jammer, waar
hulle in die koue weer staan.
My hart voel so sleg as ek dink
aan soveel wat ek het.

Sonder om driemaal te dink
maak ek gou-gou iets
om hul magies te vul.

Maar ek weet dit gaan hulle
nie uit elende trek.

Dit is maar net tydelik,
die oplossing wat ek bied.
Wat van ses ure later?
Waarheen in die toekoms dan?

Al is hulle weg,
voel ek nog steeds baie sleg.
Dis ’n worsteling wat soos
’n stormwind erg dwarrel.

Dit ontstel my so as ek
my in hulle skoene voorstel.
Ek bid tot God, ons Heer,
om hulle uit misnoeë te tel.

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002

Do You Feel?

I feel so terribly bad again
here deep in my heart and mind.
It’s a struggle like a stormwind
that fiercely blows and whines.

A man, his wife, and brother
stood pleading at my door,
before it opened halfway wide,
they asked for food and more.

Their weary, cold eyes
look at me full of hunger.
Only his wife’s eyes
stay shyly fixed on the ground.

With his slight breath of liquor
he talks of God and
the Holy Spirit.
I wonder if he fears?

I wonder if it’s just
a desperate attempt
to get something that
will soothe his hungry stomach?

And if he really believes?

I pity them there
standing in the cold weather.
My heart feels so bad when I think
about so much that I have.

Without thinking twice
I quickly make something
to fill their empty stomachs.

But I know it will not
pull them out of misery.

It’s only temporary,
the solution I offer.
What about six hours later?
Where to in the future then?

Though they are gone,
I still feel very bad.
It’s a struggle like a stormwind
that fiercely blows and whines.

It upsets me so when I
imagine myself in their shoes.
I pray to God, our Lord,
to lift them out of sorrow.

                              Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002 (Translated from Afrikaans)