That life was born in Africa,
In a poor, dusty, rural part,
His parents had few possessions,
He only desired their heart.
That life fought hard against disease,
Which time after time, nearly won;
His parents' love saved him, urged him to fight,
Just as they had done.
That life suffered terrible hunger and thirst,
As famine and drought were neighbours;
He worked with his parents whilst very young,
Undaunted by childhood labours.
That life lived through civil wars; he lost
Two cousins and one best friend;
The hatred he could not understand,
He prayed for the fighting to end.
That life gained an education, determined
To try to break the mould;
The treasure he knew could be found within,
Not panned for, like fool's gold!
That life then studied medicine,
A doctor's arduous training,
Wanting to bring relief and care
To all the poor there, still remaining.
That life stepped onto a land-mine . . .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well written! All credit to Clive!