IN THE LAND WE WERE BORN
In the land where we were born,
the historical foot paths had been torn.
The tree, my ancestors and all planted,
soil became infertile, roots excavated.
We peered at the heaven asking for a divine reply,
ominous clouds and thunder were hard to defy.
The warnings were inscribed across the sky,
if sigh and comply, the soul would cry and die.
To survive the rain and deluge, beat our drums loud,
among the crowd, the sun would appear behind the cloud.