In my mother's hut
I lay,
Peacefully,
In harmony, we lived
...
On this sloppy ground
We sat, starring and counting the stars
Singing teary melodies to the dark night
As we converse with members of the elusive world
...
In my mother's hut
I lay,
Peacefully,
In harmony, we lived
...
Tell Chinua, the prophet
Our envisaged posterity lies in crumble rumble
Tell Okigbo, the great poet
Our land lies in ruined ruins
...
Why must we?
Be the worst peddlers of misfortune
Why must our lamp go dim?
And our days filled with dishes of sorrows
...
The ravaging storms
Clasps of thunder
Awakes the sleeping future
How can this be?
...