It takes a village to raise a child,
An adage that is true.
Yamacraw's nurtured countless
And seen a many through.
The poor who knocked at her door
Were gathered in her arms;
As she embraced them where she sat
Off of Bay and Fahm.
Like a longing mother,
Her eyes have seen much pain.
Her children, which are many
Have braced the storm and rain.
There's laughter in her streets
But there've been lots of tears.
Kids have played in her courts
Throughout her toilsome years.
Her church has been a lighthouse.
On her playgrounds, children grew.
Such village has been a pillar
From history's point of view.
In the shadow of the Savannah Bridge
By the ole Suez Canal—
You'll find Ms. Yamacraw
With many tales to tell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem