In the midst of draught,
Slender fingers fought,
I could see the ground cracked,
Showed the never ending track.
Bald birds, furless reptiles,
Gallivanted around the piles,
Live stock’s’ lives away were blown,
By the stench of their own.
I burned the midnight oil,
Clear the path, rebuild the soil,
With hope tomorrow standing high,
The tree of life with all his might.