dry lips
dank skin
you don't need to be told
it is harmattan
the one who freezes faster than forefreezers
before winter
blood oozes
during winter
a single cut, blood freezes
you don't need to be told
it is hard
the one who freezes fishes finely in the creek
before winter
you beg fire to burn
during winter
harmattan lies
fire awaits your signal
to travel down the dry grasses
careless farmers
clueless middlewives
playful children
will be warned before winter comes
rain wets
harmattan dries
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The harmattan season is here, dryness and cold. Beautiful...10.