Namako’lama, massive sentinel
against the east wind, smoldering,
mouldering fortress confronting
the soft seduction of cloud billows
which cradle, envelop and pillow
your hoary head, breaking down
its stony resistance in a rain of tears,
rivers falling into green furrows.
Namako’lama, old massif, you are
overrun, overcome, mesmerized;
your might is blurred, obscured,
hard countenance hypnotized and
covered in a dozen waterfalls, cold
stony face now a weeping giant.