Circled by many dreamy eyes
Seated on raffia mats
Waiting for the voice of wise
Nursing hope in their hearts
And anxiety combing their hairs
His guttural chants went high
Then descended with variant fears
That gave their hopes wings to fly.
He cherished people’s reverence
And also in great measure
He fiddled with their patience
When they seek life’s treasure
Thus only the truly brave
Went near the seer’s cave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem