BIRTH

Geboorte

Ek slaan my oe op na die berge

od maar dis in die klowe en die grotte

en die primordiese holes waar

ek Haar vind - ewig

tuis in die donker, klam

rotssome waar smarraggroen

mos haar lippe omlyn -

Sy fluister'n sus-sagte belofte,

'n herinnering van toe Sy alle lewe

in die donker binneste van

Haar liggaam gedra het tot die

uur van die skepping.

Ek soek Haar in die laagtes en

die leetes waar ek Haar vereer

die bulte en die ryp rondings

waar ek Haar loflied sing -

Heilig, heilig, heilig!

Goot Primordiese Holte!

Heilig, heilig, heilig!

O, Liggaam waaruit elke liggaam spruit!

Heilig, heilig, heilig!

Moeder! Modder! Aarde!

Birth

I cast my eyes up to the mountains

but it is in the crevices and the caves,

the primordial hollows where

I find Her - eternally

abiding in the dark, moist,

rock seams her velvety lips

outlined with emerald green moss -

She whispers a lullabyed promise,

a reminder of when She carried all life

in the dark interior of

Her body until the

hour of creation.

I seek Her in the lowlands and

the voids where I honor Her,

the knolls and the ripe swellings

where I sing Her praise song -

Holy, holy, holy!

Great Primordial Hollow:

Holy, holy, holy!

Oh, Body from which all bodies come!

Holy, holy, holy!

Mother, Mud, Earth!

-Majak Bredell