Lie prostrate to Zeus on Mt Olympus
Bid him call the powers that be
of presidents and ministers world-wide
to cure the world of this ill wind blowing.
Stretch out to Asis our goddess in Egypt
upon whose manuscript reads Apollo
and there derive medicinal powers.
Lend immobile the spikes of this corona virus blunt
Which flying upon poisoned feathers do taint breaths in air.
Igbo, are we safe? Bring out your medicine gourd and blow
And like Epione sooth pain and restore life
Nehanda nyakasikana has this tale been foretold?
So how far will it unfold?
Please let your bones rattle and inform Zeus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem