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NO WRITER’S BLOCK FOR THESE BUDDING AUTHORS

NO WRITER’S BLOCK FOR THESE BUDDING AUTHORS

Our '60 Words/60 Woorde' competition is in full swing and we are getting a great response, with many entries. According to Imke van Heerden, content manager at LitNet, the literature platform is 'surprised and delighted at the high number of competition entries. The quality of entries are also very high, and our judges are enjoying reading them'.

Judges Kerneels Breytenbach and Ernst Grundling will pick an Afrikaans and an English winner, whose micro-stories will be published on a limited edition back label. The winners will also receive a Mont Blanc pen and a case of Leopard's Leap wine.

You can email your 60 words to win@litnet.co.za to stand a chance of winning this fantastic prize. Below are some of the entries so far.

Bruno FA Andries:

Heart of stone

Honeybees are dying 
weeping willows are crying 
Rivers of dreams have been turned 
into bleeding streams

Crayfish, cycads, ivory 
fraud, corruption, bribery 
Rhino horn and abalone 
humankind has a heart of stone

One day you’ll have to answer 
when your children ask 
What on earth have you done? 
the leopards and polar bears are gone

Hart van steen

Heuningbye het heengegaan 
treurwilge stort 'n traan 
Moeder Natuur word verkrag, 
sterf 'n bietjie elke dag

Kreef, renoster en selakant 
luiperd, goud en diamant 
Ons het die aarde slegs geleen 
die mensdom het 'n hart van steen

Wat gaan jy eendag sê 
as jou kinders vra 
Wat op aarde het julle gedoen 
met die ysbere en perlemoen?

Wendy Lopatin:

Leopards leaping

Long-limbed, sleek, lithe 
leaping leopards 
lurking as they stalk their prey 
Let no hunter seeking bounty 
harm them, save the leopards for today 
Naturally selecting leopard 
luring deer into his lair 
Sated, slept, by dawn awakened 
Time to hunt, that's nature's fare. 
Leopards – rescue from extinction 
Spotted cats we must conserve 
Keep the graceful leopards leaping 
Safe and free, that's their preserve.

Sneeuwolf:

Koer van die tortel 

Die koer van die tortel is net ’n smekende ween 
Red die planeet, red die aarde, red die ou vierbeen 
Los hom tog net alleen 
Want, daardie hopie saamgeperste hare 
Werklik het dit geen waarde 
Dit is daar, net vir trots en strategie 
Op die punt van die neus 
Van hierdie statige ou 
Gepantserde reus.

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