Who'd pass me some cold patch?
Under my mat the ground seeps
Just like good old thatch.
Chilling waves oozing out,
Penetrating my 'zana' mat.
Tickling me just like that.
O Harmattan, you say what?
January 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a fine read. Bien!