This is my country
Of her, much I can say
This is the land of salient creatures
The fewest Africa ever had
A battle field of strive and survive
A wind-torn graveyard filled with mysteries
Faintly intimidating and not cosy in the least
A gaily place, but not for those who know her not
And that is my town, a beautiful place; Epe
Winds blowing with special feel to it
Bringing to it a special sound
Of tranquillity booming with life
A land brightly illuminated
By nature bulb with scarlet ribbons
My sleepy little town with peace environs
This is my father’s house, a rare cut stone I must say
A life-size in the midst, at corner of the four roads
Centre of all, with nothing to miss
Atop I stood looking down to singing and dancing
Men and women, young and old laughing and smiling
A sight so stunning, nothing more beautiful to behold
The house that sheltered princes and princesses
My mores I hide not
It is my richness and identity
My natural beauty I hide not
It is my poise and individuality
I have seen the far end of the world
But my country, my town and father’s house
I crave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem