If you have javascript turned off you may have problems accessing the (pulldown) menu on this site. If this is the case, you may access all the pages through the "Sitemap" which can be found on the top right of each single page. Thank you!

Vrou by die Spieël

Sy sit by die venster -- staar na die park
die tyd het diep kepe om haar vol mond gehark
sy hoor die sirenes - sy weet dit word laat
sy bly nogtans wakker en kyk af na die straat
'n TV blêr langsaan, sy staan vinnig op
uit haar stoel by die venster, sy skink nog 'n dop
die park lyk verlate vanwaar sy hier staan
en hoog in die bome hang 'n geel sekelmaan

en die Kentucky Fried Chicken, die Y.M.C.A.
die skool vir gestremdes en die Pick 'n Pay
staan strak in die maanskyn soos bakens van lig
sy raak aan haar wang -- sy glimlag en sug

Sy stap na haar kamer, gaan staan voor die spieël
sy trek stadig uit, dis 'n ou ritueel
en nakend bekyk hul mekaar vir 'n uur
die vrou met die boggel en die vrou teen die muur

dit voel of sy lig word -- sy droom sy kan vlieg
sy tol in die rondte, laat die spieël vir haar lieg
sy lig eers versigtig haar regterhand hoog
en dan volg die linker met 'n sierlike boog
en stadig verdwyn die gedrog op haar rug
en sy dans soos 'n vlam oor die vloer
deur die sitkamer, die badkamer, op die balkon
waar die maan oor die park vir haar loer

en die Kentucky Fried Chicken, die Y.M.C.A.
die skool vir gestremdes en die Pick 'n Pay
staan blink in die maanlig soos tempels van hoop
en sy dink -- ek sal môre die rooi rok gaan koop
sy dink -- ek sal môre die rooi rok gaan koop

She sits by the window and stares at the park
time carved deep lines around her mouth
she hears the sirens, she knows it is getting late
yet she stays up -- looks down the street
next door a TV is on, she gets up quickly
from her chair by the window and she pours another drink
the park looks desolate from where she is standing
and high in the trees hangs a yellow crescent moon

and the Kentucky Fried Chicken, the Y.M.C.A.
the school for the handicapped, and the Pick 'n Pay
stand starkly in the moon light as beacons of light
she touches her cheek -- she smiles and sighs

she walks to her room, stand in front of the mirror
she undresses slowly, it's an old ritual
naked they look at each other for an hour
the woman with the hump, and the woman against the wall

she feels lighter -- she dreams she can fly
she twirls around, let's the mirror lie to her
first she lift her right hand carefully up high
then the left follows with a majestic bow
and slowly the monster on her back fades
and she dances like a flame across the floor
through the living room, the bathroom, on the balcony
where the moon over the park peeks at her

and the Kentucky Fried Chicken, the Y.M.C.A.
the school for the handicapped, and the Pick 'n Pay
shining in the moon light like temples of hope
and she thinks tomorrow I'll go buy that red dress
she thinks tomorrow I'll go buy that red dress