Harrying of the North
Safi Mbarushimana
My eyes sore,
The smell of smoke creeping into my room
Mother left last night to build…
I swiftly look outside,
the fields are barren and only a bright red flower sits there
I left,
not knowing where to go,
I saw our former kings head,
hung on a Norman door…
The fields are barren and only a bright red flower sits there
Corpses lay on the field,
The air smelling of salt,
Our food scarce
The fields are barren and only a bright red flower burns there…