Sakwa Franc

Dead Springs

Sound the flute

Deep calls unto deep

Who\'s wise among my offsprings?

All are lame and invalid

 

Hands stained with blood

Blow trumpets to the east

Wisdom sleeps no one is safe

All springs are poisoned

 

They used to fly and perch

Look around they have deserted

No place to call a home

Arrows of betrayal sank in their hearts

Oh! Lung cancer! Air I breath

Stomach ulcers! Water I take

All springs are dead

Fight for your springs