Our poverty now is absolute,
Rotting garbage lies about
And flies infest this land.
The last remaining coping plan is made,
Beyond it looms the void.
Our bloated leaders wine and dine and laugh
And flaunt their wealth and plot new plunder.
And we the ruled despair:
The options now to lay down and die... or rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is one of the best poems in Zimbabwe i have read yet....