We are hungry
In the land of plenty
Our wealth are stashed away
In the stacks of illegal vaults
Both home and abroad
They have no tangible business
None of them have stable jobs
Yet they control massive fortunes
Acquired via illicit acts
They have beyond their needs
Now they are afraid
Of their nefarious deeds
Because they've eaten the forbidden fruits
They are busy sowing leave garments
They dug illegal vaults
In the grave, latrine pits,
Some of them prefer septic tanks
Or 'abandoned' houses or shops
To stash away their loots
They claimed to have plenty monies
They boast of stupendous riches
Alas, the wind has blown,
Fowl's hidden part is opened
They are nothing but thieves
Pen-robbers masquerading as leaders
They wear the garb of politics
To steal our nation dry
They are merciless and wicked
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When they get what they required from them(we) , They put on their real helm. They are fruits of Achan, That did convey sorrow to our clan. Thanks for sharing!