Oh lovely tower!
You stand above roofs and trees
And graze on the wild Savannah
You nibble at fresh tree leaves,
And the whole land is yours!
You visit our streams, majestically
You stray through the quiet village
And stole all attention to yourself
*
Nights are for the folk tales,
Stories groomed in the heart
Of the people; culture, legends
And when the children tell of your deeds
It shook even the heavy sleepers and bored
“The moon is sick and half
Eaten by the grey Giraffe!”
Children complained…
And each tale tell of your queerness
So you enjoy the wealth of the land
In the stories that the children told
You lived as the mystic fawn
Which saved the lost wood men
*
Now you live in the fairy tales of happy children
Giving them fanciful rides through the skies
And when the nights end, you return to the wild
But you, you remain a mass of living height!
