A lion's heart bleeding red,
Hoisted on a spear —
To the Rain God.
Rain God Shango
Will not see,
Will not appear.
The sun — his armor —
Blowing heat.
The water of the roots is molten iron.

The prophet
Blares on his horn,
All his veins dance along with him:
Shango! Shango!
A lion hides his heart
As you hide the rain.
And you, you love a heart offering,
Fresh from a roaring lion.
Let the heart alone roar, roar, roar…

God of Rain!
The heart is roaring, bleeding on the spear,
Take pity, send your tongue — the cloud —
And pay with silver coins of water.
Water.
Water.
Grant us water.
Ostriches lay eggs baked in the sand,
Not a drop in them, not a drop of water.

Look at the pointed,
Pregnant women's bellies —
Instead of bushmen, they bear skeletons.

Take away the shimmering armor.
I shall dance around the spear nonstop,
Day and night,
Until you appear.
Even dead I shall go on dancing.
And if you kill me, the dead one,
My tears will dance
Around the spear alone —
And roar:
Water.
Water.
Until you and the tears
And the drops of lion's heart that fall,
Into my arms, fall, fall, fall.