Around me was a heavy bush,
The home of different species
of animals, including predators,
Both of dreams and reality.
And those that bring delicacy
to the village man's meal.
On the setting of foot in my vicinity,
One immediately smells and feels
the wind of abject poverty
blowing joyfully with no alacrity
While still holding our lives.
When you gaze the wooden structures
from afar, and how human beings
have hidden themselves in the lonely
corners of their caves,
shivering in their emaciated bones,
One can then see, smell, feel and even
hug that deadly disease called-poverty!
The buildings are hopeless,
bound to collapse at any stormy day,
The people are penniless,
bound to failure each day,
together, they are lifeless.
Indeed we were dead but unaware,
I was one but unperturbed,
And we cried loud but no one cared!
And so each day was a tragedy to us
Always desperate to end the play.
Though sometimes I expressed fear,
I didn't give up the fight,
For my hope was not empty,
neither was my faith shaking.
My dreams were alive,
fresh and blooming in mind.
And so the heavens opened to me,
Yes, one golden evening
as I saw my tears slowly wiped away,
And smiles bursting on my face
Like beams from the angry sun.
My tears were no more,
My trials have become triumph,
My faith has been strengthened
And so are my dreams,
Fresh and blooming in mind.
And now I live in a new home,
Which I call a new home of hope,
Where I live and dream bigger
Smiling at my bright future.
Here, predators are no more,
Whether of dreams or reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem