The larvea if an African fly survive,
With the bush of the African trees to share a dream;
But the animations of our lives are well exposed than thought.
Oh, the kite of Africa lies so high;
But the metablism of this larvae needs to be studied.
Up high in the air,
And the African is of the hope of reaching out to the world;
But we have to harness this strength through a thin wind.
Of such a hectic life,
With inappropriate fleshly desires of man to man;
But my people need much experiences of life to survive.
The larvae of an African fly survive,
To be drawn out of water to make a move;
And like a man who has an unbelieving wife,
Our hopes and dreams are still with us to strick the even.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem