When running in the bush path
Be careful of broken bottles
Thorns and even debris of
Shattered fire wood
When depicting in a wetty
Forest beware of rattle snakes
Wild cats and black scorpions,
They hold venom that is too
Deadly
When running on the highway
Hold the fear of meeting
On the way to wherever you might go,
They may not necessarily be your friends
At first sight;
First could be men of the under-world
You may detest meeting them on the way
Even in broad day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem