Just like yesterday
through the iron gates of life
these slow chaped
the yeatsian beats
in this shape with lion body and the head of a man
you found your way
the fire wood of this world is for only those who can gather it
and this bethlehem
where we have good and bad people
a place full of sharps of the forest
where the sugared clarityof blooming cofee trees deny them
today they say hossanah crucify tomorrow
but before the languish in his slow -jawed power of time
they shall reap, it i mean the thing they have sowed
for this time 's winged ghariot
for this desert of vast eternity
for every thing
they are out of tune
it moves them not
although we had them before the flood
but in snatches were they rewarded
bow down great God
in your dim abode
before the conversion of the jews
though in our stony sleep
we are sleepless
in this our post over land and ocean without rest
in their garland briefer than a girl, s
in this time we are
the time when the falcon cannot hear the falconer
the time full of blood dimmed tide
and so it came to pass when you have found your way
into this moguls seat
seat of the eminents for the fleet feet
a man of the people
written by: Ipaye Olawole Peter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem