Versamelde gedigte

The baobabs

Misshapen yet majestic, weird yet grand

In pure simplicity of curve and line,

Set stark against the horizon's quivering line

Of midday haze, the giant baobabs stand,
Leafless, austere, their trunks by winter tanned

To the rich dark maroon of lees of wine;

Strange shapes like those a madman might design,

Or Fancy limn, they sentinel the land;
Each swollen stem a token of the strife

Between the past and present, new and old,

That blend, and in their blending recreate

The forms of things long dead and give them life,

Yet stand apart, implacable and cold,

In harmony with but each other's hate.