Where the baobab tree finger points,
the bush veldt sun fries you to tatters,
some camel thorn trees hook and pierce,
jackals and hyenas cry and laugh at night,
the moon rises yellow, with stars appearing
all over the sky shining like jewels,
it’s as God himself is walking around in the veldt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem