When a tree falls down
we share no tears
when an Iroko tree falls down
we bleed in tears
Indeed
a great pen in literature
a freedom fighter of course
'there was a country' in a country
front liner in prose-fiction
your ink also play a vital role in poetry
whose prose: 'things fall apart' gave birth to a play
Many socket balls will give out tears as you depart to meet with antique fathers of then
We say sleep on
in your casket as we in litany
litter words of commiseration
to bid you farewell in your traverse
as breathing dust in our lithany
your route shall be fair with you
sleep on
sleep on
sleep on
as we will continue to fetch from
your literary droplet of ink
as you answer call from above
we will immortalize your ink...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem