This soil knows me and it appreciates me
The same soil that is concealing my ancestors
People I am containing their genetic codons
Only here! where there is cave of ancestors behind us
Where dongas have grazing donkeys
And wind is blowing with excitement
Rivers flows water like blood in my veins
And ever smiling Mountains
The hills that speaks the same language with me
The streets that share the same sentiments of values
Where culture is a dress, we are not bare
If sought to do it this elsewhere
The dust will be unsettled and land will be dry
And the world shall see meltdown again
While holding roses to deceive my own heart
Then my fuzzes blaring my disorientation
When being ungrateful to my ancestors
Ancestors from somewhere being happy
After I have graced them with my presences
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Jacques, You sentiments are wonderful and these emotions are beginning to precipitate in your words. Continued endeavors will make you a great poet. I would encourage you to write in your own language. Because, the patriotic feelings which you naturally own could be availed by your every countrymen. (Bhanu)