I am a wanderer in this nomadic land,
To whom can I lend a helping hand,
To make dark lives a little lighter,
Be a bastion of peace; not a fighter.
This Darkest African, void of light.
Transient Nomads constantly fight.
Forsaken by God it appears to be;
Africa is not the land of the free.
Never shall I pass this way again,
Witness sadness, poverty and pain,
Man’s blatant inhumanity to man,
Let me be of help now... whilst I can.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem