Call me what you wish,
For I know you’ll like it that way,
With no objection I’ll respond,
To whoever calls by that name.
Call me a bushman,
For in the bush I live,
On raw or roasted food I feed,
And in streams I swim.
I catch fish for a living,
Money without,
For the life I live in,
It shines everyday.
No shop no motel no town,
For the bush lay my world,
Music without but melodies with,
From nature aboard.
No school no church no hospital,
For the bush lay my recreation,
Misery without but happiness with,
For in the bush lay the shrubs.
I’ll come over one day,
To the city and see,
For your horns hoot a lot,
Scaring me in the bush.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks a lot Peter for your continued support and love to my poems. God bless you.