She can hear her mother singing,
And her mother's mother,
And feel her father's music
Through the rocks beneath her toes.
Birds wheel and watch in silence,
Unflapping, spiralling higher
To let her hear.
Lizards skitter
On urgent short lived errands
Through parched scrub,
Than hide again.
She stands tranquil,
Arms out, fingers spread,
Holding as much world as they will
As an unflinching sun
Bakes her brown baked skin.
An inquisitive breeze lifts a dark lock,
Lets it fall and strokes her
While she murmurs names;
Every name she knows
Or has ever half known,
While below, the river repeats each one
And tells her more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem