The tune of Adowa
Drives Yaa to frenzy,
Her legs alternate–
they close,
they cross,
they open,
they part.
Oh, what a dancer,
The dancer of Adowa.
Her trunk goes–
to the left,
to the right,
to the front,
to the back.
One tree, another tree,
Each standing alone and erect.
The wind and air
Tell their distance apart.
But beneath the cover of earth
Their roots reach out
And at depths that cannot be seen
Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty — the unhidden heart —
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto’s daughter;
But when within thy wave she looks —
Which glistens then, and trembles —
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
See the golden Leopard with the spots!
The golden cat of the cliffs!
See the Leopard with the bulging cheeks,
The golden Leopard with the wide face, I-Face-
Nothing,
The particoloured one, I-Climb-Into-A-Small-Tree
I rip off the eyebrows!
Clawer am I, dig my nail in deep,
My enemies I leave behind, saying
`This was not one leopard but ten!`
Mr
A wall is like a knife
It slices a city in half
One half is on the east
The other half is on the west
How tall is this wall?
How thick is it?
How long is it?
Even if it were taller, thicker and longer
It couldn’t be as tall, as thick and as long
Ah! there exam days
when people near me,
they carefully hear me,
please me in many ways
Ah! there exam days.
My loneliness filled with girls and boys
my introvercy gone for joys,
The pink-lipped sky stoops
To kiss the silver-bodied eucalyptus,
The pale sun slowly sinks
At the darkening sight of betrayal.
And I?
What have I to say?
What have I to regret?
Oh rose you were meant
To lend fragrance to my life,
Away from the bustling life.
A joy grows in a jar.
Chaos mind, disturbed life.
Hope grows in a Jar.
Many big ideas, big dreams insight.
A dream grows in a Jar.
Where others are planning to soar high in the sky.
PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he
knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so
much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my
state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The
church is Catholic,
Drum of war is still and silent like coma,
Tears mob the land and rent homes apart,
The velocity of their echoes
Travelled far beyond the seas,
Our heroes, the conquerors of many wars,
Returned home and silence like grave.
Masquerades amuse the day
With their best dancing steps,
Odududu ndufu!
Wardrum, without whose leadership there is fear on the way!
Wardrum, without whose leadership there is fear on the way!
Great spirit, Uduma Olugutu
Great spirit, Okali husband of my great mother, Aru!
Great spirit that dwells in the water at Nde-a-Awa-Ezhiema-Elechi!
Great spirit Umezurike of Ebiri-Ezhi-Akuma!
Great spirit Aqwu Obasi of Ekidi Nde Ofoali!
Great spirit Kaalu
Dim vales—and shadowy floods—
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can’t discover
For the tears that drip all over:
Huge moons there wax and wane—
Again—again—again—
Every moment of the night—
Forever changing places—
And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces.
This is hard to believe
Better believe it because it is the truth of life
That water has no hands
But drag sands with arms of energy
And ripples created far away on the airwaves
Became the love doctor
That fall in love with the heart of man.
I am handsome, craving
But cannot stitch woo on a lady’s ears
Those
Hello dear moon
Aged long sitting on a lush soil
And gentle like a breath of life.
Send me your content
That wield children firmly to grandma’s tales
And stick adults to gourds of palm wine.
Yesterday you are absence
I kept you pounded yam and vegetable bush meat soup
But you didn’t come home to eat them.
Heigho for a glass, heigho for a lass,
A drink and a kiss, I leave you;
Heigho for a friend that sticks till the end —
Good-bye, my lass, don’t you grieve you.
Hurrah for a song that is not too long,
With a jolly roaring chorus,
While our cans beat time to the ringing rhyme
Till the ceiling cracks up
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see
The wind howls, the trees sway,
The loose house-top sheets clatter and clang,
The open window shuts with a bang,
And the sky makes night of the day.
Helter-skelter the parents run,
Pressed with a thousand minor cares:
‘Hey, you there! pack the house-wares!
And where on earth’s my son?
A Story from Boccaccio
I.
FAIR Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love’s eye!
They could not in the self-same mansion dwell
Without some stir of heart, some malady;
They could not sit at meals but feel how well
It soothed each to be the other by;
They could not, sure, beneath the same roof sleep
But to each
You are the one, the unbeatable of all time
When motion is still and helpless
When companions are scarce and wobble
When hope seems not to motivate and sightless
You are the one, who emerges sagaciously like a brighter moon.
You are the one, coming and the crests arise
Like a rainbow crescent in the sky
Like a supple wind gentle
Poor harlot, Mary Magdalene,
Into the feast with trembling crept,
Past frowns that stabbed her with their hate
And falling at His feet she wept.
Self-righteous Simon spurned her there
And marveled that her sinful touch
Displeased Him not, but he forgave:
“Though sinning sore she love’d much.”
Brave, grateful Mary Magdalene,
When Peter all his faith had lost,
Pressed on
