We are the plants,
seeking a farmer from the sun.
Who shall raise the rays? We have no flower.
We chose, they rebel.
The land mocks us! Why did we look into the shadow of our rays? The sunshine, our hope is basketed unto their fields.
We are the cocoa trees from the west,
groping our way into the orchards of apple trees.
Where is the rain in the sun of our land?
Can our roots find a place in the snow?
How can we grow, when our land backs the eyes
in the sun? Our roots are our only hope!
In the Niger area,
Our waters are pulled into the fields of the sun.
Now, we fight for the droplets in our roots.
The eyes are blind seeing the tears of our shoots.
What shall we do?
Who shall raise our rays?
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