Tears of the rain.
Just before you changed your face, Your opposit neighbour glow and shine, And it was tasty of your tears, Waiting to bury its head with tears.
It is your work, and you must do it, And no one on earth can stop you. It is the season of your tears, But cry a little more, rest a little more, Let your first tears dry before another. Then, land will not be buried in your tears.
But your own is not like that.
Now you have change your face again, And you are ready to cry your cry.
You had better don' t start, because if you start, you don' t stop. Until you have rapture waste of the streets, And until highways becomes canals. Until you have buried the whole earth, Until you have beaten up market women, And destroy what supposed to be sold.
Please go away, go away, come another day, Go to the north, cry there today.
Where cattles needs grasses to graze, And where men need water for crops. So that everyone can be locked indoors, Shed your tears there, cry like never before, Until you bury the land in flawless peace.
_ Warri Stanley