Bewaji Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

From afar my eyes glanced
At the coming of a walking statute,
In modesty this her coming can't be overlook,
So beautiful and well shaped,
That non could escape her nest,

Like those that marry our wards
For pasture with crook,
Our elders do overlook with no concern.
Agba kin wa ki ori omo tuntun wo,

This is never in our case,
For with their hands the head is turn,
That everything laboured for are made worse.
In pride they make our joy know no bound,

Wearing the look of the scribes to retrieve it.
Thirty thousand minimum wage being approve,
The rumour that the grand slave marshal increase the tax,
Not for us but for the care of their prodigal.

In approaching this damsel,
She is said to be Bewaji,
You need to hear the good
That is made of her cord,

Responding, my response was is this
Bewaji the grand slave marshal
The Delilah of our nation
In whose hand we merry in pains

At the end of every four years come
This way to share a bound,
This we can't put to end
This irresistible of hers.

When will your hook be cut off from our neck?
Even our place of refuge is lust
In this beauty of yours,
That non could in its conscience be our Samson,

Their belly is filled in greed
To lead us through the right part.
Dear divine, do fight our battle now
Not till we cry from the soil.