Wangu sat on her bunch of firewood
Drowning in a pool of thought
Staring down at her unshod feet
She could clearly remember
Her uncle dividing her shoes
Amongst his daughters
Her eyes burning with unshed tears
Had lost their golden brown charm
She was young then and never
Understood why her parents
Had slept never to wake
She watched as soil was thrown
On top of the boxes they had been put in
She was told her parents went to heaven
That she would now live with her uncle
The uncle that had never visited them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem