
Image Credit: Jacques Le Henaff
If Àtọ̀húnrìnwá
could use his deceptive
Ìwé orin to cart way the
belonging of your mother,
let me use my poetic words
to label your body a spice,
and revive the definition
of your body structure.
If you come forth for me,
Stay and permit me
to ascend your pains
to the wall of forgetfulness
with my chanting skills,
for who listens
to the sonorous
voice of Akéwì
and refrain from
emptying his wallet.
Alóyinlóhùn,
suppose we are
to call you
a bird in a nest,
Agbe will proudly
shield in your cage,
but we would rather
quest for a nightingale,
Àtọ́kẹ́, euphonious one
like a mighty goddess.
Ojúrọ́ungbé,
if the moon appears
in a crescent tonight,
let your enchanting
smile light up the sky
and I’ll will come
with my gourd
of words to
dialogue
with you a
love language
like gbònkà
recites his rich
Yoruba verses
before the princess.
If today you must swim,
let it be like a rover,
if you must dance,
let it take in style
of ìwonpápá.
If you must speak,
let your words be balm
to my soul,soothing
Every ache.
If you must walk,
let it be a stride.
Let the beauties
from ìkìrùn pay
Homage.
And if you fly,
take the wind for a ride.
For even the heaven
shall bow to your elegance.
