The Cry of the Earth

My throat is dried Nothing to wet and make it soft My children are dying of hunger and thirst Empty are the barrels of rivers and streams in my neighborhood When will condensed clouds fall to its feet to worship me? Harmattan has struck me again He came piercing my heart with the spears of drought. And has caused my breath to cease. As if that was not enough, The heat from his golden circle above Has turned my green hair grey And has drained the little juice in my reservoirs My skin lies pale and bare. Save me! Oh God of rain And in return I will give you my grains