That African child was hardly eleven
With his sister approaching seven
Hunger was evident in their faces
They were wearing the shoes without laces
...
In the cool, narrow streets of my city
There live great people
But the time creates paucity
I can't visit all the places
...
The African Bliss
That African child was hardly eleven
With his sister approaching seven
Hunger was evident in their faces
They were wearing the shoes without laces
Shabby clothes had hundred holes
Eyes were blank without goal
Lips were dry and swollen
Nobody would come from heaven
I offered them water and food
They were then in happy mood
They took food with their eyes closed
I picked camera to save the pose.
I asked them what they wanted
They raised their hands and said
"O God, bless us with oceans of water;
More for tears, less for laughter".