Môre, Pa (Morning, Dad) is a Father’s Day rhyme in Afrikaans for my dad, for every other dad and especially dads who had already stepped across to a a Heavenly Dad.
Hierdie is ‘n Vadersdag rympie vir my pa, vir elke ander pa en veral vir pa’s wat al oorgestap het na ‘n Hemelse Pa
Video of a Father’s Day rhyme for my dad, Hendrik Albertus Daniel Kirsten.Full text in Afrikaans
Môre, Pa
Oudste het Pa se ligte gelaat en welige donker hare,
Jongste het Pa se fyn postuur – ’n mens nes Pa met fyne snare.
Ons almal speel met woorde, soos Pa het in my jonge jare.
Ek sien Pa in Oudste as hy uit die bloute woedend raak, vir net ’n bietjie stout.
In Jongste as hy sê: “Ek proe iets anders in vandag se hawermout,”
In myself as ek wonder: “Waar’s die trek? Dis dan skielik so koud.
Soos Pa, sien Oudste reguitpraat as die beste kommunikasie.
En nes Pa, ken Jongste reg en verkeerd in byna elke situasie.
Ons almal ag alle mense waardig, ongeag hul nasie.
Pa kon nie hare vleg nie, maar wel dorings uithaal, so sekuur!
Al was Pa nie altyd reg nie, het Pa my reggestuur.
En Pa is nie rêrig weg nie, want ek sien Pa orals hier.
Môre, Pa
Ons sien Pa in ons maak en bou en speel, ons oplos, regbuig en herstel.
Vir Pa was kreatief wees baie goed; nou’s dit in ons bloed, skyn deur ons vel.
Speel was vir Pa die lewe, en die lewe ’n immer skeppend’ spel.
Rympies vir Jeugdag, 16 Junie, deur Petro Janse van Vuuren en Monica Bosman
This is all five sections of a trilogy in five parts for Youth Day on 16 June. With an original sound track created just for this moment. The rhyme is a play on a patriotic youth song from the old South Africa days called “Die lied van jong Suid-Afrika” (The song of young South Africa)
A little about how it came about…
I was visiting my mom in Stellenbosch (see this rhyme about that moment). We were playing with words as I often do with people who also like to do so (most of my family). We were playing with ideas that talk of hope and promises of better times – melk en heuning (milk and honey); kelke vol seëning (goblets full of blessing); geld sonder lening (money without a loan) etc. And from the side Mom says “En hoor jy die magtige dreuning” (And do you hear the mighty rumble?). It was a little out of the blue, but still, recalls a song that spoke of such hope and promise to the Afrikaner of the old South Africa. I knew immediately this was a seed for something important.
Part one came quickly in direct response to that playing with words. But it felt glib. IT needed the darker more critical side of where we are now in South Africa. Thus was born part 2. My sister then got wind of it (since she is my language editor, Monica Bosman). She offered Part 3 as a further development of the flip side of the rumble – die striemende stilte (the searing silence).
From there we went back to the milk and honey, but no longer as a sure promise, rather as something to be sought again. Listening to this Mom said she now misses the hope. That is how part 5 came about as a rhyme of critical hope.
It was truly a family affair.
Rhymes by sisters: Petro Janse van Vuuren en Monica Bosman…
“These challenging times” nearly got me down, but rhymes like this one picked me up again.
The full text in Afrikaans:
Oor die rand van uitgebrand
Ek spartel rond
In my eie wond
En terwyl ek in infeksie swem
Wonder ek waarvoor is ek dan bestem?
Veraf hoor ek ’n hond blaf
En vaagweg wonder ek wanneer hulle maskers gaan afskaf …?
Maar, ag, dis sommer laf –
Wie sal laat los wat soveel mag verskaf?
Só sak ek dieper in die donker af en af
Tot net duskant die graf …
Skielik gly daar ’n rympie by my verby.
Sal ek hom betyds raakgevat kry?
Ek volg hom op en op
Tot my kop
Bo die oppervlak uitpop!
Rympies word my antidepressant
Vat my aan die hand
En lei my terug oor die rand van uitgebrand.
Where I am going with this blog from here.
Since the beginning of this year I had been recovering from burn-out from the work and personal overwhelm of 2020-2021. In the depths of my despair I began to make rhymes. They are my antidepressants and I share them here. They are also a form of advocacy and resistance.
The plan is to post one every weekend – but as soon as this becomes too much like work, I will stop.
I want them to offer joy, giggles, sniffles and reflection.
Thanks to my sister Monica Bosman who is my soundboard and my language editor Find her here.
To my Husband Gerhi who does the doodles. Find him at www.gerhi.com
(vir my ma op moedersdag – vir elke ander ma én vir ons Universele Ma)
‘n Rympie deur Petro Janse van Vuuren
Vir Moedersdag
Three weeks ago I visited my mom for a week in Stellenbosch. I am recovering from burn-out and this visit finally made me feel that recovery might actually be possible…
It is meant for my mom, yes, but also for every other mom and for our Universal Mother.
And it is written in my Mother-tongue. As are most of my rhymes.
Here is the full text in Afrikaans:
Perlemoer
(vir my ma)
Sewe dae in Ma se Spa,
En ek kan weer vir die lewe sê, Ja!
Ma het my kos uit die tuin gevoer;
My gelos om te slaap, lánk na die duiwe begin koer;
Buite by my gesit as ek dóér
oor die berge kyk, waar dit met wyn en asyn boer,
my kaal voete in die herfsbedekte grasvloer;
My met versies en kersies aangepoer;
My lomerig-luuks in die osoonborrelbad laat sloer;
Oor my tone geloer,
terwyl Ma se vingers doelgerig oor my voetsole toer;
Ure met my gesprekke gevoer
om die gekrampte gedagtes en gevoelens los te woer
en weer die hoop in my wakker te roer.
Ek, afgebrokkel van die kosmos,
’n Fyngemaalde stukkie rots,
Wat kon land in die stil, donker kalmte
van ’n moeder se omhelsende warmte,
om my weer aanmekaar te snoer.
’n Week, ’n leeftyd, in die hart van my Perlemoer.
Where I am going with this blog from here.
Since the beginning of this year I had been recovering from burn-out from the work and personal overwhelm of 2020-2021. In the depths of my despair I began to make rhymes. They are my antidepressants and I share them here. They are also a form of advocacy and resistance.
The plan is to post one every weekend – but as soon as this becomes too much like work, I will stop.
I want them to offer joy, giggles, sniffles and reflection.
Thanks to my sister Monica Bosman who is my soundboard and my language editor Find her here.
To my husband Gerhi who does the doodles. Find him at www.gerhi.com
