Put out the fire in the backyard,
It is eating up
The barn and the cassava farm.
The plantain plantations are all gone.
The fire is encroaching
The main building,
Like a horde of locust on a cornfield.
We must put off this fire
It is blazing in our backyard,
It would spread
To the main building
And all we here and fire fighters
Would become its repast.
It’s rolling like a stone
Down a steeply hillside-
Oh the heat is melting us,
Our backyard is burning
And we can do nothing
And cannot do anything.
Fire! Fire! Fire!
And no water can quench it.
We want to put out
The fire in a street from ours.
We have set everything ready,
But we have fire in our backyard
And we cannot quench it,
But we want to stop from spreading
A fire a street from ours,
And we have fire in our backyard
Which we cannot quench.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem