When sunset arises I see them rising from the bush
Down the great river Nyabugogo with their frozen fingers
And their cold, once sweet faces
That left to melt under Nyabugogo bridge.
When July joins other months, I attend several gatherings
We chant how patriotic we are and how future is on our side.
We rap Bob's songs and agree that all animals are equal.
However, have some of us created to disturb frogs in their natural habitat?
Can we prove how these children under bridges will own their own badges?
Can we repeat Bob'songs when our homes are empty and water channels are full
Of human grains that ought to build that future?
At least frogs have rivers
A grain of a man hasn't even an acre to germinate from
To form his next choir
That will lead future July's gatherings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem