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
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