The old stinking coaches are back
On the old rusty rails
And the new coaches are itching
To come out their pockets
The train is slithering through the vast
Expanse of our land in a frenzy of noise
Where the snail is the locomotive driver
Days in and days out
The sloughed snake makes its way
On the rustic leave
And noise is the change
We have gotten from the journey
Over spurs and hills and rivers
On the journey from lagos to Kano
And the new paint is the change
We can see of the old stinking coaches
On the old rusty rails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem