Since i inherit the glossary
of your past memories
i am the centre of the sun.
i come,
before the cuboid Hallowed-ness of the earth.
Dressed by the night.
to recall the blur picture of your passage.
Agujiegbe! !
Your son is here again,
not with the rifle you left behind.
not with your empty snuff box,
that otherwise would be full.
I come alone!
Before this grave,
with the colours
of my emotions
sewn to my chest
let the thunder hear:
how dust go with the wind
Madu-oha!
Your mound is cut already
by deep rift
And the sunken sand
That followed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem