Wat vir ‘n dorp is jy
Wat jou aan die wingerdstok wy
Die druif die is jou kos
Sy sap wil jy nie los
In jou snikhete son
Gooi jy die druif op beton
En los hom in sy hel
Tot ‘n uitgedroogde vel
Nog ‘n druif tussen die kaak
Totdat hy ineenstort en kraak
Om sy sap af te gee
Sy lewe vir jou gegee
Die druif is jou voortbestaan
Terwyl die wingerdstok daar staan
Jy met jou marteling aangaan
En druif vir druif vergaan
L.C.J. Engelbrecht
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