At the death of yesteryear
When december rounded off her transactions
Somewhere in the dying forest of Uner (Dogon-Kurmi)
I met a poem
Gyrating
Burdened by weight of ashes
The ash of a burnt library
This poem stalled my walk
And gifted me a sacred vial
In the vial - some sacred ashes
The muse of pen warriors
A legacy of their legendary
A slice from the loaf of ingenuity
'Rub and rub' it told me
'At dawn when the sun rekindles it vision'
'rub and rub, mortal bard'
'When darkness slumberslone'
Ashes - the fate of a burnt-offering
In worship of poetry
'rub! rub! '
'It shall create you anew - a bard immortal'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem