Open heavens to the silent earth
In pangs of childbirth, echoes of
The young heartbeat of morning call
...
Yesterday are the echoes of the morrow,
Echoes of hard times, reflection of the dinky past in a mirror.
You may not be able to behold the images, the dinky images
In the facade of the eyes, in the eyes of the soul.
...
I am the negro proud with eagle laden pride yet on life's windward side)
Mother, The Ancestor
Open heavens to the silent earth
In pangs of childbirth, echoes of
The young heartbeat of morning call
At night, when the tango fades
Death songs of women die as the sun is buried
In the celebration of dirges, joyful procession
Much noise of the mortar and pestle
At the fall of Erinlakatabu (Elephant) , the Fulani(herdsman) that has much cattle.