Stooping to breaking point the cattle
bellow loudly for every horn that’s lost
Тhе heavens рау no heed.
Тhе birds strung out in а circle
fly unswerving through the air
And we hold our pabns open in prayer
Тhе clock marks out
the heat that withers the grass
Тhе wind scarce brings two or three drops of rain
Feet all cracked and bleeding
can crush anything in their way
Тhе ants marking out а long black thread
bury themselves deep in the ground
And then the tardy rain begins to fall
We have open houses for а flood
Му body aches all over in the water
Му bird, killed by the drought, flies through the air
no more
I can open my window wide
and shout till I go mad.