The Young Man Poem by Gert Strydom

(in answer to Elisabeth Eybers)

Under the shower her man is soaking wet
where she wraps her arms around him
and around him water splashes.

His skin is soft under her hands,
she washes down his spine
and she almost slips, are against him

and the floor of the shower is slippery
when she moves still closer to him.
Under the shower her man is soaking wet

and he smiles softly with white shining teeth,
she can feel his muscles tightening with power,
she washes down his spine

and when she slips, she has to move her grip on him,
with water flowing over both of them
and around him water splashes.

and he stops her from falling, grabs her with power
and she washes down his upper leg,
she can feel his muscles tightening with power

and the floor is slippery but flat
and she wonders from where his manly power comes?
Under the shower her man is soaking wet

and she washes him as low as every heel,
her fingers grips
and she washes down his upper leg

and his chest hairs are smudged black
and his gaze is full of lust without any suspicion
and around him water splashes.

over his arms, his strong rib cage
She sees his member tightening, totally set
her fingers grips

where suddenly takes him
looking at him with conceit.
Under the shower her man is soaking wet
and around him water splashes

and his smile almost swallows her and it’s bold,
his skin is soft under her hands,
she sees his member tightening, totally set
and she almost slips, are against him.

[Reference: Jong seun (Young boy) by Elisabeth Eybers.]
“Tog, onvolkome afgerond,
hoe sal die lewe hom nog wond:
in sy Achilleskern vind
hy geen beskutting – man of kind:
geheg aan die benedebuik
waar blink haarrankies reeds ontluik,
deuraar, teer soos ’n ooglid, sag
soos murg, hang weerloos die geslag.”

My translation:

“Still, not yet rounded off,
how life will still wound him:

in his Achilles-core
he finds no cover – man or child

attached to the lower abdomen
where shining hair-sprouts are already unfolding

veined, tender like an eyelid, soft
like marrow, the sex hangs defenceless.”]