Black ash rains down
From a blaze in the nearby veld
Black ash
With no hope
No home
No help
Spirals downward
To a grass-green grave
That grave is full of dollar signs
Green
Greener than the grass
Green with envy
Greed
It was greed that started the fire
That has gutted the mind of man
And now
The whole world burns,
Ablaze with lust and pride
Depravity is no longer something to hide
Tiny toddlers raped
Pupils given passing marks for sex
Anti-HIV showers
And all the rest
Black ash
With no face
No fear
No form
Floats dreamily downward
On the arm of the early winter’s wind
Permeating my clothes
My skin
My soul
Black ash whispers to me
That we are all made of the same thing…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem