An african women

Many years she lived;
And she is still alive.

Under a black Shadowed Monepenepe Tree;
Taking a breath;
After a long work;
At her Lepellane little land;
Where she ploughs every year
To produce food;
For her 13 children;
And 25 grand children.

Everyday she travels;
17 kilometers within a danced shrub;
With bared feet;
In a hot summer sun;
She walks Maselatole Moruthane;
Everyday towards her little land at Lepellane;
Her produce makes it possible;
To take care of her children;
And grand children.

Every year she is;
With bared feet;
Walking on hot sand;
Which is as hot as a hot plate;
On her hands;
She is holding a long straight hoe;
And a bottle of water and sour milk;
Sometimes carrying a crying baby on her back;
A crying baby of her children;
Who are busy playing games at home;
Having no feelings of helping her.

At the end of the season Lehlabula;
She harvests and takes back hone;
So that the children can stop crying;
And fill their shrinked stomachs.

Every year;
She does the same thing;
She is an African Woman.