My continent cries tears of blood and rain,
Her sons and daughters by the millions die;
Each country does it's heard rear up in pain
While children for their mothers, countless, cry.
The monster AIDS, kills as a rabid beast
Lead bullets fly like locusts in a storm
While on our western systems we do feast
Red blood does gush from men - viscous and warm.
Kalishnikovs and governments shall kill
Far many more than drought or famine could
Ignore the poor, the wounded, deathly ill
Our hearts beat not for all are carv'ed wood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem