It was only a finger of the air
scrapping the roof
and the thatch flew like fluffy, white seeds
from the hurricane created by a child in play.
The falling beams and bricks
did not know that human skulls were fragile.
The force of the wind did not choose
the items it picked up to scatter around.
The merciful sky scattered white pearls
all over the fields
and, if these landed on naked backs
and hurting heads,
the fault was theirs who did not find shelter
beneath something strong enough to shelter them.
As if water from the sky was not enough,
eyes had to shed more!
As if the clapping thunder was not loud enough,
throats had to gulp tears and cry!
And so what if a few lost their life!
Isn't each Guarding God still protecting everyone?
Hurricanes come and go,
Where humans are, there tears will flow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem