Give me gold
Or give even diamond
My conscience is the science
Of my life
I am wearing a zephr that makes
Me a distinct being
Always this is where I ought to be
Is there anything that matches good character?
And I pity those who jump
From one iroko tree
To one mohagony tree
I am waiting for the the fruits of these trees to yield
To feed them or feed the world
There is nothing as bad as seeing
One colour and ascribing it to another hue
Perhaps for the fact that food is ready
For that which tastes sweet
Also is bitter to the body and to the soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem