poetry
Englished Versions of the Ch'an Poems of Tan–Hsia
Poems by myself
Translations from the Afrikaans of Adam Small
CH’AN POEMS
by the Chinese Monk Tan Hsia
Englished
by
mike dickman
from the original translations made in 1975
by Yogi C. M. Chen
An
offering of brotherhood and gratitude to the
Chinese Yogin, C. M. Chen
This
version — like his own — should be freely distributed to whoever would like
a copy
and is never to be put up for sale
Paris, France — July 11th., 1998
May
all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness,
Be free from sorrow and the causes of sorrow,
Never become separated
from the sacred happiness that is sorrowless,
And, quitting attachment &
hostility to what is considered near or far, live believing in the
fundamental equality of all that exists
In the deeps
of the pond, the mud bull tills the white moon earth
High up in the clouds,
the wooden horse flies swiftly by
The Indian monk does not like to hold his
begging bowl
And in the middle of the night rows off in his boat, heading
elsewhere.
Moonlight
shines through the windows of all homes
Throughout the land birds sing and
the wind blows in the willow trees
You could say that on the journey there
and back again there's no change
That it's like a hero throwing his sword up
into the sky.
It's too
subtle to be seen
You may get blood but you'll never win
So why does no
one talk about its price?
Because it's not a worldly thing
The cool moon
climbs the high mountain peak at night
Covers miles and miles of lake–like
plain with her light
Startled by the fisherman's song, the egret takes
flight
From the reeds we see only a patch of white
In the deep
palace there's nothing to be known
The jade altar is adorned with clouds and
mist
Court officials go about their tasks
The Dharma–King prefers not
to wear a crown
Spring flowers
not yet bloomed and yet the plum is out
The pine is green but all other
trees are bare
No thin cloud to veil the moon
No light mist aswirl
around twigs and branches
The moon like
some magic spell tonight
I turn and strike the bell
Its loud song flies
up beyond the heavens
Why do those gods up there sleep so deep?
The white
lotus root in the mud is no mistake
And though her pink flower's hidden by
leaves and gets no sun
Travelers, don't lie
The pure breeze will spread
her fragrance far and wide
This shore,
that shore. Both miss it
Nor is no–self in between
The sun is setting
behind the western mountains
Yet still it casts its shade toward the east
The pure
breeze carries the fishing boat out to work
Watch as it rouses up waves to
the very sky
Fish playing together deep in love
In the end even they
will not be free of the hook
The long river
is clearer even than moonlight
Not home, but everything is bright
‘Oh,
fisherman, where are you going?‘
‘I'll sleep enclosed by reeds tonight.‘
It can't be
seen, what will you say?
No thing has its form nor follows in its way
At
the mossy altar no–one serves
Moonlight lights up the tree... The phoenix
will not stay
The wooden man
asks the way to heaven
The jade girl seems deaf, doesn't understand
And
yet back they come together, arm in arm
Leave the mountain as it is,
encircled by clouds without end
In the subtle
truth there's nothing you can gain
Which also doesn't mean that all is vain
The
moon reflects on the sea, the fish all disappear
You — fisherman — why do you cast your hook again?
Outside the
fence the white clouds... a vast expanse
Even when put to the test no sword
can cut it
The deepest cavern needs neither lock nor bolt
You pass as you will — no need to ask leave
When hungry I
eat green grass
And when thirsty drink at the cool spring
I do not plough the empty ground
Cowherd, no need to rouse me with your
song
I cannot pass
to the other shore
So come back — no need to ask the path
In front of the altar no monk
Just a ray of moonlight shining across
It's perfectly
round and inexpressible
Tell them to shut up
Though it's painting up the
sky and looks so noble
There's still someone wants to pass the word
Shih–teh
seems to stupid... can't tell day from night
Han–shan is too lazy... won't
turn left or right
That perfect round voice before all speech... how nice!
Beyond
space the moon is very bright
This sweet
message is rather rare
The fragrance of moon–flowers endures
Last night Chang–O appeared... so beautiful...
Her eyes turned up, yet
still she draws the Yuan–Yang
The dragon
sings in the sea and rains come in due time
The lion roars in the mountains
and the wind blows up so fine
Don't worry yourself about thorns in the path
In
our poor house there's no guest sublime
With horn and
hide he soon become a cow
To his eyes all — wood and ashes — were just
so much dust
Though he failed to understand the truth his teacher told him
At
last, as death arrived, he realised
His noble
form, so wondrous and bright
No–one — not Wu Tao–tze
Not Tze–kun
himself —
Would have the skill to draw or paint aright
In wintertime
all trees have some fault or another
Only the root of the plum tree is warm
Look...
In front of the village after the snow...
Flowering blossom
Pine shadows
in the moonlight, some short some long
The sun shines from within the lake,
two skies but not separate
The heat of heaven does not know the noon
The
full moon of autumn has no idea of art
Most of us
have learned from someone else
And open our mouths in vain
No–one knows its entire radiance
Not even Buddha did: how could we?
Only one mind,
and yet for years and years it can't be found
Take the skin off of naked and
enter the unbound
Look at the blue sky... It's like a mirror
Miles and
miles of cloudless space… and the moon is so round!
you who run to
me blood streaming
beneath the dark and scorpioned moons
flying your horned brow
who needs everything telling not just once but
every single time
and all tales of high deeds move and the sorrows of
others not at all
who lay waste with a single glance of your black-lit eyes
aeons and infinities
scything black light rays to the bone
it is into
your inmost ear i sing this
into your innermost heart
and the
infinitesimal structure of the marrow of your bones
down nerve and energy
and air
every ripple in sand and wave and stone
down
into the
hiddenmost brain
i call to you
along the crooked paths of time
make sign to you from each cobwebbed leaf
from
every chance of light upon the swimming skies
out of the
starlit night my voice sings
bright and silent as dust
from the deeps
of earth and sea and time
i call to you by name
the brittle
sound weaves on
singing heroes wild hunt and pain
your shadow lopes along with mine
vast
unknown ever
known
i see you in doorways of the long-barrows bide your time
for what?
again
and again and again
will we not
this once be friends
dissolve beyond the wildwoods all
tangled blood briar and the green fire alight along the nerve
and in the
brain
remember! remember!
i hear your careless laugh
wild and mad
upon the wind
and quail
armed at every
point with blank incomprehension
you refuse love all taming
the seer's
web of elven gold or is that indeed all you see?
unwind
the knotted
serpent net
drifts into flowers
space
never there
drifts into
never done
into all's undone
into gone out no more
no blame no pain
anywhere
night is
gathering in over the ancient hills behind me
a light breeze stirring the
prayer flags on their poles
people pass by
not for me
already sunset is dying away
the sky a deep green i'll warrant
i wonder where
you are
fire
on
janus' eve
last red eye into night
half honest
journals
poem lusts and lanes
of half lived ladies
as night settles on the years
days of
flicker the membrane mind
inchlong fingers cup and hold
sky wraith
last warmths
spaces mesh
one outbraving holes
one looking both ways through last child eyes
one who stares
at
fires on a screen
both ways
down
the echoes of the night
here is unword
seed
slowmotion
exploding
infinite
silences
revolve
dissolving into
things
unsought bubbles
caught
as air
breath unheld
hidden room
you are lying
my
son
each move
hides a million imagined crimes
and this i
write
by birdlight
rice on the boil
heart between
my teeth like a stone
here is a rose
thats perfume touches all the air its form infolding now the shapes behind the
night old bearded men and many watching from afar the subtle changing in a flask
- a sudden misting on the glass - the deep downpouring of the golden root and
the oil behind the root that tips the
night.
here empty sky shaping all the air a gentle tinkling of bells
sudden rattling bone on bone
immensities of space
here friendly old fatigue comes climbing up my back and in my ears and eyes his sands a dusting the sudden golem presence of the always late corps physique with its age old aches and pains, bladders and bowels that want emptying this scratched that probed or fed or otherwise distracted this presencing forth lost in forty-second street a nerve-print city with its locks and burrowing ways door on door on door always closed always opening onto some such utter wonder the miracle is no-one sees
the shapes the sounds the exquisite doings of the brain misting like film on water sky-flower slow-motion exploding down a couple of million aeons in your hand
nothing
meaningless
archipelagos is and
fjord into the greying seas
time prints
doggedly on
at right angles to horizons
in any sense of that word
first and
second fingertips joined
joined thumbtips (one mercurochrome red)
triangle
of
vital heat ablaze
above the mind-machines of mankind
agelong ceremony
rising of the
light
green processional
and the young year tugging at the leash
alone on a hill
the turning
world
a stark array
wildhunt horn and secret piping
oak-holt
the flowing
turn of world
no whit my own
infolding
day
rise
in last skies
pointing
naming
unbeing's horrific nearness
this
simultaneous arising
light on light
and
less
only home
where I is
nothing
and always knowledge only nothing known
winter's slow round
only fires in
the works outside
or on the box
downsweeping
dragonwind
winds in
yearsend
season's turning
skies founder
&
fly
shift
the slow
upwelling
world
tanglewood turns
bunched
foxhairs
on briar the only sign
of passing
ariel
pierces hillside
beside waiting wraith of trees
skies lower
greysteel
sheen
etched
moon spilling
blacklight
wake in early light and snow
prayers unfurling
silent as
snowprint
on a sleeping house
on the road to the station
we hit a pheasant
still
fluttering into immensity
as gears change
misreading
ground
these leaves
flying at your head and slantwise in the wind
suddenly the
children and the rain
i ching
tonight inscrutable
water on water
endless &
sodden sound
on the carpet
gathering in
dreams
surrounded by
bits of tomorrow
cold sweat
moving heavily
through
the first tasks of the day
this gentle body
crippled nun
gets
on and off the bus
amber beads clack
black robes
flapping
obedient crows at her ankles
and she stumps off
past posters
rockdreams
sex you never
even heard of
kissing you
goodbye
at the schoolgate,
dry brown leaves shift and hiss on the
courtyard floor
brown leaves scud and crab across the yard
one small child squats to see in my eye what i'm doing what about
sky reveals holes of brilliant blue on examination
school's out
swallows on last light
loud &
american laughter
gardens away
lamplight
pools on the
slowly shifting
imperceptible room
ice &
incense
fountain
out of & into
nowhere
quick backflip
through
paper-vellumed
hoop
and time
finds
you
ensconced in
other where
and
hey-nonny-no!
another year
gone lumping
and zooming by...
here's to
yearsend
little girl in
rubber boots
skipping through leaves multicoloured
pale yellow cryptic beige red & grey & brown
what a smile is on
your face
in this simple
love for your bearded father
who stomps along behind
wrapped in fume and vapour dragonbreath
on cold this midnovember morning
tonight you
give me twelve signs from an ancient book
two tortoises - snake-wrapped lord
of midwinter
midsummer's lord of the k'ua
this shaped
world
is open
on the living sense
rose gold on
the
southern wall
ice-blue &
ivy
the further side
only mind
knots
ropes of air
fingers pick
away
the cloth
swathes
poke and pour
at
wound
this
no
where
ache from
heart to
ear
across this silence
prints
almost solid
voices
moving
form
snagged in
poisons
stir
elixir
we have torn ourselves down
stripped light and days
ripped out and
hung on air
nerve
fashioned aeons long
washed back like tide
down endless meaningless corridors
long as vision
the jetsam
wrack and
interminable chthonic winding
burst blazing
into
exquisite amphorae of meaning
worlds ajewel with half-grasped radiance
planed
airs
plumbed
space
inhabited all
worlds and all the world from
infinitessimal up
& infinity on down
each
particle
blazing
seismic simultaneity
questing we
have tasted the bread and the salt
questing drunk oceans of space
burned
in icy flames
drowned in fire
down endless
corridors
down endless corridors
down endless corridors
stone could
not hold us
nor earth endure
we set sail
beyond stars
where suns spin as dust
and on the pinprick skies
rode
wave
upon wave
upon wave
this
you deny
this
you deny
the sun &
the moon
singing
in your veins
your form
a dancing veil
froth and flux
unto
the air
where the
skies are sailing
this
you deny
this
unsought
this simplelight
clearer this than spring water
this
unfailing
I watch her tear herself apart upon the lawn. The hands, one and another, weighing. Quicksilver. Bounce-offs. Gagaku weaves behind and the grunted nod.
Jewelled detail, tasted into... Tempo slows... ricocheting mind-spin... How to be in a position... outside any system... out of the blue... It falters as the even more weighs in... Un peuple un homme... Anybody and everybody and maybe oneself... Names of great men...
But audience demands dictates the language
That my
children have access to the most valuable - know how to get it around how to
find it to be true to myself but at the same time give them access to the
finding the earning a living.
soft as dust of
owls
the
luckless sill of years spills
vomits
into the next
eyes inturned
breath
held
knots of space
silver spinning water
our lady moon
is rising sweet
yet on the water
no moon lies
o'er the water birds spin
the water
takes their image clear
yet in the water
no bird flies
look through your window
see me
standing here so many years
singing this rainy song
ripple and wave
the hoof-print
puddle
sounding the depths of all worlds
look through
your window
waterfall
so small
home of the
moon
dancing to time
on a pale
afternoon
firelight
people
dancing on
sticks
bent trees
no breeze
no breath
no death
lie by the blackback tarn and drink your fill
the wizard of the hill stares down
his spell has
made the water sweet
black bird
with the amber wing
fly through
the sun
my heart breaks
to the third
void
o ship of the
easter moon a-sailing
seven dreamers trim your sails
can you say me
true
where the wind goes to be lonely?
far above the
ghettoed earth
the moon lay a-bleeding
light breaks
across the thousand mile sky
today i light
one thousand lamps
and watch amazed as a frozen tree weeps
for your swift return
late in the
coming year
the weeping tree down
a smell of cedar will fill the air
my inadequacy
fluttering
the
bitter wind
like
prayerflags
coming down
through the fog
two cars pass me by
unseen
beyond this
glow loving hands half-seen
furnish feast of bread meat and wine
we sit within
and smile
two old chairs rapt in oceanic silence
still
fire-heart red beyond the grey,
unnoticed,
inner and outer polishing
etching
into your bones
me
longer-haired and woollier now than ever
foolish like a child
no idea at
all of where i'm coming from
where to go
the sky leans cold
stripped and
stripped back
the livid lips
what remains?
everything
even the sensation of desperate helplessness
open to
suspicion
tonight the dragon rises
smashing
through broken window-pane
tonight i celebrate
whirling
drunken and unseen, demented Hassid
tonight
three voices
cleave the airs
food untasted
wine unsung
my songs for you for you
my songs for
you
i see you spread-eagle on a long beach
stretched
between infinity and nowhere
your right eye
the sun
the left the moon
and stars and night the colour of your mind
body the
ancient and hollow hills
your hair ripples fire and the wave
while
up your spine
a long-dormant
dragon
uncurls
standing on
the balcony
i watch you walk away
dwindling
figures
in a landscape of rushing lines
as i wave and wave
reciting prayers to Tara that this next sundering bring no pain
back inside
the
books and statuettes gaze at me dumbfounded
picking
nervously at my guitar
the music won't come
all fingers
between silences
cruise immense
passages of solid time
endon chunks of space
prealloted
choking and
swathing
— a
too-tight collar —
attention sags
from what to
how
breath inheld
a thirty
thousand years
this is dinner
thrice cooked
before
I gave up waiting
wet crêpe
soles squelch &
slip on sodden leaves. lost siren
howls somewhere
off scene
earth flows
moonward
fingers rooting to the ground
lycanthropic
jaw
mouths lunar tunes
lunes
infinitudinal
expanse
indwelling jut of brow
and coal bright eye
swarms
matterings
and preordained meaningfulnesses
space
in-
folding
momently
appears
as knowing
crow flaps in
half-light
black and sodden rag
leaftoss on saturate airs
no-light
proclaiming dawn
bird track and
cloud print
engraved
a white
spurt of dog
checking one last thing
before following its master home
this is the gate of the years
where
years put off
names
perhaps
but not
i think
substances
a crow flaps muddy footprints across a lean sky
coming from the right for fortune and weal
me listening
to the noise beyond the silent hissing of the room
(and oh for a clock to
print the seconds of the time)
engines labouring uphill
hammers from the construction-site across the way
birdsong
what is there
in
all this
for you
for me
sunlight aslant across the silent page of sky
a lone magpie
limping by
great black crow
limping home
lights for a moment upon the twisted branch
of a gnarled
old tree
into
infinity
slips
hesitantly
as though
almost
he
had no reason to be there
a man
who
having always
a
little
hid
behind himself
a smoke
a
glass
self-deprecating
smile
is now
gone
(gasp)
good
bye
all afternoon
my
nose in a book
tallis & palestrina on the airs
so you sneaked into turning eight on me
like a thin slice of moon
on
ice
& silence
thirstily
i
drink the waters of your presence
quicksilver being
ancient girlish face
you see
i
think, only the need,
curious but skittish as cats
astounded
that any one could be at once so far
and yet so near
the books i
read speak often of dew
of strange and sharp surfaces & powders
mirrored
the book-lined
walls lean inward round the shadow of the
figure
that reads
there
head robed in lucent silver
gestures graven in the dusty dark
slantwise on
air
and fat as snow
silver beads skim sides of gusting wind
on backdrops
of
luminous green
the fleeting concrete
smacking
droplets
sparkle the skin
golden in the darkness
& moving the other way
in the days
and hedge by the door
i clearly see
the brinded ghost-dog
snuffling at
the roots of my life
to startled second glance
and closer
observation
nothing there
pictures of
light
the small & fragile beings that break like waves on endless wheels
of hope and fear
pictures of light
the mountains of bone, flesh, shit,
oceans of tear, blood, serum, piss, snot, pus;
vast spread of hide,
strand
and sieve of nerve, sinew, vein,
and the tangling net of hair
pictures of light
the grappling
fingers,
the nails that scrabble and tear
at coffin-lid, sand and stone,
and
against
the night
the endless,
shuffling procession
of dust
eternal horror
of engulfment
so soon
snuffed
out
pictures
of
light
these
stars
the roar of sun,
the midnight boat of moon,
the sky
pictures of
light
the golden birds flying up,
sparks of molten fire beneath predawn streetlamp
the too-large
eyes in too-big heads that rock
above tomorrow's corpses of stick and sail
the fragile chitin
dead beetle in my hand
endless
recitation
sound void inseparable
endless outpour
labyrinthine mandala
endless enactment
of sky
called again to play the ape
again
constrained to draw on air
the lines that are not there
wall in space &
time
as others
rebuff
bell & robe
enweaving
in
hysteria
all
dragon
& dear
after an afternoon of waiting
a single,
waxen
block
you come stumbling up the track between the rose and the wall,
light drizzle
in last light
a bag on every shoulder and then again
i say only
what i have to say
& pass on
we listened to
you then
the slick light burning
cigarette in the cupped hand
years on
the
things you said
come back
things you're saying now
probably as lost
lurching back
only
when too late
out of the dark night
& rain
between the fingers and the skin
a few drops
red crystal
afternoon
the skin of
the years stripped back
three lovely ladies
unpeeling
and the back
of my throat
aching to weep
in the
hour upon hour
upon
hour
of
broken skies
today i saw
a golden boy with a face like the sun
a little girl with stars on her face and the skies beneath her brow
the mock and
turn of flowers
tonight i am dancing in circles
circles
image
of
image
in open sky
weight of air
bends
beneath white
wing
this
and this
unfolding
endlessly
you're off on
another side wind i can't follow,
looping space ropes into the webs and nets
of what
— i assume —
is what you imagine to be the demands of
whatever you're calling reality now.
this always i've watched amazed - how you loop on air on a single sheen - never finding that base line that would give your acts the grandeur, the weight, they actually have
how often have
we come back to this? -
this final line, this shutting of doors, unpinning
of all limits, this opening of all doors, dissolving walls even into the rain?
how many times yet to start again
to start again
and to start
again?
our meaning
has become no meaning
our hopes and dreams are defiled
and the doors
of the future are swinging shut behind
tonight
into midnight
silence
& between two sessions at this machine
i hear a
cricket
how many
years?...
like
a birthing
venus
from sea green
covers and
mists
rust and
cinnabar
stepping
naked
and wise as
seals
to the phone
my feet slowly
slipping apart
on shiny toilet floor,
i reach
into a future
i
could never swear
is there
what is this
flower
sudden sprung
between
vast columns
of supporting
vine?
shy succulent
or
labial
lotus
bhaga
shocking
and sweet this
abysmal cleft this
ocean home
of all the
starseed
universe
strange
corners of the soul
beckon
the ever-ready
need
seeks
control
though
i
ride
the fragile
bark
of
breath
that
is
no
breath
unminding
depths
stir
within a
moveless
sea
you
to whom love
songs are so difficult
bliss-empowered
maiden
of vast expanse
gently
cracking open
the
nerves
of an agelong
cocoon
ocean wave
and sheer
arrowing down
through space of bliss
traversing
aeons
&
airs
meeting
two energies
that merge & meld
the third
called in
like a poet of
the desert wind
cloud forms shaping on skies
& these are the wings
i love you
time's getting
tighter
things
slip
days
weeks
counting more
in weeks now
than flickering daze
what'll it be when i'm seventy?
months?
years?
these lights
pour
purling
pearling
on space
& far
beyond
sight
this
white
deep red
this
pure blue
this gold
profoundest
of greens
lit
as it were
from within
dance
in patterns
dragon
fast &
slow
weave
all &
everything
&
dissolution
light
on
the moveless water
gibbous
moon
the lurch
of
the pontoon–jetty beneath the feet
the unexpected
arc
of the rowed boat
as it cuts against the current
& dancing
slow
circles
about you
my hands
touching
your skin
your hair
the air
watching
as
moment by moment
out of the air
falls
this universe
&
all that's in it
amazed
mostly
sometimes
a little
confused
reticent
not too sure
i always like
what i see
but
awestruck
&
… ready?
Come, let us sing
Friends,
let
us open up the Good Book
and read from it —
o Mos Holy Spirit
let
these words go right t our heart —
from the secon book a Mosas
from
Ex'dus,
fourth chapter, firs an secon verse —
o God
make for us with these words a light as that of candles! —
an Mosas
answered an he said: but what
if they don b'lieve me, don take up my words
if
they say the Lord didn't never appear t me at all?
but the Lord
said: you shall lead your people
What is in your hand?
an Mosas said: a rod.
Now friends
twas
all he had
this man o God
a rod
a great dead stick
an on top of
that he was also a stamm'rer
but the Lord
spoke with him at length
how with that stick he had stricken dead
the
Egyptian
an Mosas let his great big head hang down
an
an sunly that selfsame rod was become a serpent!
now friends
even
unto me has the Lord brought
his wonderworks
he has asked me what is in
my hand
an friends
in my hand is my guitar
come, let us sing
Preacher
you a Prophet
a Jesus?
a prophet?
you wit yo palace–house?
you wit yo airmobile?
you
wit that kinda sad smile a yours?
an yo tears
an yo huffanpuff up onna pulpit
an yo plate piled high wit braaivleis
pertaties an meat?
yo house the
desert? boy! folks is really gonna think you summin!
an how ja like yo bare
lil feet f' that streamline thing
how ja like yo camelskin toga
how ja
like ya plateful locust an wile honey?
On the P'rade
Please mad'm
c'mon
smile
jis look
our little old tents is piled high wit joy
how can mad'm
look so sour
shame on you shame
d'you think life's vinegar
an
where's mad'm buyin it then
cause i bet it's real expensive
nah, mad'm
c'mon,
c'mon smile
look over there
our little old tents is piled high wit joy
This white
dame can't laugh
jis gives orders:
there's nuthin I want,
the coon formal as hell
But mad'm,
pawpaw, pawpaw an banana
an juicy grapes out the heart of Canaan
or
maybe the lady would fancy a fig
jis look how swollen it is
plumped right out from top to bottom
don' blush now mad'm
we got the
leaf right here
ja well maybe
I don' want nuthin hear!
But mad'm
I don' want nuthin do you hear!
But mad'm
You, you
coolie
I'm going to call the cops!
The fruitboy's
voice suddenly muffled
cops, cops?
hey c'mon lady, don' be so mean
jis
say g'bye nicely
hey guess what
them bare–arse ole nec'trines still
blowin mad'm a kissie goodbye
The white
woman stomps off
across the parade,
clippety–clop, clippety–clop
Hey lady, hey
mad'm
sho she don wanna try our guavas
guarantee 'm lady
great f' the nerves!
Great Krismis Prayer
Lord
once
again we praise you
you what came f' the redemption of the worl
you what
was born so many Krismises ago
in Bethlehem
ja in
Bethlehem Lord
in the stable
by the donkey
by the cow
in the crib
on the earth floor
on the floor of sand Lord
in a
place that stank
in a place where a person got sick from the stink
we know such
places Lord
ja we know them
we got duplicates of them allover
in
Windermere
in Distrik Six
in Blouvlei here jis otherside Wynberg by
Retreat
an that's why
we praise you again this Krismis Lord
jis you
jis you who's got the
biggest esperience of us all
of this kind of places
only you can help us
only you can
perhaps again
this Krismis Lord let
a new Mosas be born for us here
a new Mosas
a
new Mosas
o Lord, our Mosas —
we'll hide him away Lord, we got lotsa
hidingplaces
from the daggers what don' like him —
to lead us, the
whole bunch of us
lead us to the plain before the vineyards of Canaan
of
Canaan Lord
Lord, our Canaan
*
Let me
sing t you Lord
sing t you what I mean
firs jis make
the banjo strings right
o–kay
Inna Retreat
hotel otherside the vlei
we got our own proper Egypt
'cos jis like the Jews out of slave'ry
somebody still got to lead us
away
somebody still
got to lead us away
somebody still got to lead us away
'cos jis like the Jews out of slave'ry
somebody still got to lead us
away
*
O Lord
please
try do something f' us this Krismis
you can't jis forget us again
already long
time there's been fellows under our care who saying
all you got left f' us
is
the banjo an the guitar Lord
the banjo an the guitar an the dark subways
the people are
embittered Lord
their hearts are growing hard
they don' wan to hear bout
you no more
an when they sing they sing
Already long
ago in places
like Windermere
we forgot our longings
for things that was dear
so Lord you
can jis lissen
t our songs in peace
an don' have no worries, we already
long
pas' grief
*
An it's not
only jis agains you that they embittered Lord
they also embittered agains'
folks that's well–off
there's a nother song they sing
Y–town
bye–town
bye–town
sigh–town
sigh–town
die–town
here we come
here
we come
here we come along
the Road to
Heav'n is narrow
but it's your way, not my way
our road's name is
Broadway
we live agains'
the flanks
agains' the very flanks
agains' the flanks of Table Mountain
no
the flanks of the Lord
yes the flanks of the Lord
jis you wit' your life
an us wit' our longings
ja jis' you wit' your
life
an us wit' our longings
so your road
is narrow where you ride Home today
our road's name is Broadway
*
But Lord it's
jis no good f' us
that our road's name is Broadway
we have to
change that name
but how can we change it
how can we
unless you help us Lord
you who's got
the Kingdom
an the Power
an the Glory
The Lord has rolled the bones
Let the worl
talk pallie if it wants to fast an loose
a cigarette, a can Oom Tas
an
s'alright buddy s'alright
we don' give a damn
a cigarette, a
can Oom Tas
pretty chick, pretty other stuff too
oh ja!
let the
world talk frien' if it wants to fast an loose
so what
so what
what diff'rence does it make
like th' English oke says cuts
no ice
the Lord has rolled
an' the bones jus don' have our number
is
all
so let them
say skollie pallie
ferget it, never mind,
it's jus there's children a
Ham an children a Cain
s'okay my frien', s'alright
let's jus don' worry
The skollie's prayer of thanks
all you
stiffnecks up in the jury
all you hypocrite holy swanks
thanks
an the same to you
for the complements of the season
ja so okay i'm
a skollie — a hoodlum
my artificial holiness
was kicked right up the
arse
at birth
the Lord himself done it
o
he's so compassionate when you
get yourself to cut the crap
so thanks God
thanks
for
the complements of the season