I stand on the corner of Canfield and Clarion.

I search for a familiar car to drive me away.
It is cold, but there is no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

This place is unsettling;
The truth upsets me.
But there is still no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

I came to remember things past,
And people lost.
But there is no car in sight,
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

A middle-aged black man pulls
His black boy by the hand;
His wide eyes stare quizzically up at me.
I look, and there is no car in sight.
And the wind cuts deep into my soul.

I look to my right;
I see a concrete staircase;
It descends into darkness,
There is no wind down there.
I do not know what is in there,
But there is no wind down there.
The shelter would protect me from this wind;
This:
    Fede iska
    Ukombozi upepo

I stand strong instead,
Remembering things past,
People lost.
There is no car in sight,
But I see a river in the distance.