The twin peaks hide in mist or white flurries
on lentil-, pea soup-, bacon-and-bean- slurries
that damp against the windows of white gable faces.
Red wine bottles warm before fireplaces
and in wooden bowls fitting the season
stand guavas, stacked, sweet oranges and lemons
We will at times murmur in hushed voice;
eat curried dishes, pork ribs and venison of choice,
dumplings with cinnamon, freckled pancakes.
When your head its comfort on the pillow takes,
the Eerste Rivier gushes a noisy rumble
and inside you the pebbles grind and tumble.
This is a translation of D J Opperman’s II Winter poem, one of four (seasons), written for the Gourmet Guild, actually for Annatjie Melck*; via Komas Uit ‘n Bamboesstok, published by Human and Rousseau, bundle extracted from storage.
*This link shows a possible reference, and as a bonus, some great photographs (including some taken at an old De Villiers wine farm, Villiera, as well as a few tempting recipes. I have not had the wines…)