Poetry

Late in the afternoon each bright weaver gambols
when the evening star shines blue-white,
each pretty butterfly flutters around
when wild pigeons land on the ground;
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
 
Through the trees the wind is a whispering,
when birds call in the silver twilight,
when the sun disappears, red behind the hillocks,
when stars appear with lights that wink,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
 
Far away guinea fowls are calling,
preoccupied I sit peaceful on the porch, 
see in the distance city lights shining
when the bats cavort to and thro,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.