From the east comes a hurrying clouds
The young ones join the mature ones
Soon they become a unified body
It looks like a fierce lioness
Hungry from breast feeding
Ready to pounce on it's prey
Suddenly comes an angry wind
Sweeping every drop and dust from the ground
Children shout for falling leaves and clothes
Men hurry home and with high hopes
At last the dying plants will survive
Women tired of streaming
Bring the smallest pot ever
Ready to collect the last drop
And here we are still waiting
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you for sharing your poetry Duku. Your strength is an eye for drama and detail and there is passion in your description of a storm building up. English is obviously not your first language... Have you thought of writing in your mother-tongue and finding a translator?