The sun was still young
Like a new bouncing baby
My friend was such a mosquito
Who never wanted blood maybe
He made for the foe's sugar-cane
One minute drove its wagon past
With a loud thunder that amazed ogres
My friend was such a calf
That followed the wildebeest blindly
He was whipped by the cane owner
River Mara kept on calling
All the departed ancestors
To come and enjoy some maize cobs
That were ready for any thief nearby
The cane owner planned to steal once
The sun had grown old
Like any useless gold
The cane owner was such a giant
That was whipped by the cob owner
So the owner of a whip was whipped
The story was then retold
Of how my friend was caught
Snakes hissed that the cane owner
Was truly and seriously taught
And the owner of whip was whipped
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem