(after Bertolt Brecht, after Barend J. Toerien)
The molasses and hay smells sweet where she eats at the crib,
while snugly she chews more and more of the hay,
the man that are milking her is bricked up into her memory,
hay bulges out and are slowly worked in over her lip,
there are hands going up and down her teats,
with soft loving eyes she looks at the world,
in tranquillity she eats on while she trusts the man
where the tail of the Frisian cow constantly whisks up and down,
she chews utterly happy on the hay,
feel her udder sink bit by bit,
she does not look around but just keep on eating,
knows that her life must be like this,
the man is fixed on his work and tense
where she knows about no other things in life.
feeding-crib)by Barend J. Toerien.]
© Gert Strydom
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