In a
round-mud-grass-thatched house
They all
sleep on the floor
Parents and
children separated by chitenje
Next to them
are just a few kitchen utensils
Of course,
mtondo, musi, lichelo and dengu
All standing
in for pillars of the wall
A wall made
up of sticks,
Some grass and
mated with mud
a mansion
for healthy termites.
Their
clothes
Are left
hanging at the roof
No,
something like that
Very empty
it is
Just a few grasses
here and there
Only
cherished in winter and summer
When the
rain comes
They sleep
while standing
That’s life,
their livity
Their bodies
encode messages
Of suffering
minds, souls and bodies
One thing
though keeps them moving
Determined
and partially focused
Blindly vision
And weakly
courageous
Because one
thing
That and only
Comes to
their mind
Their life
is temporary
Hard,
miserable, torn and useless
Dead men
walking
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