Son of the soil, the tradition's dabble
A type never found when lost again
Yet a next-door neighbour love not pain
Like cockroaches, he squeezes through cracks
Fighting tirelessly like the teeth and nails
With all nerves ruthless like a lion in labor...
Writing history with tears from the children of Agan
The faith in the path he begun
Bonded the great Ika Kingdom...
Benedito Dei knew what he saw in him
All from Timbuctu was his poetic Justice
Ebonka returned braver telling Dei stories and his
The difficult in Dei, 'Dein': Ebonka was renamed
The plebs found a king in him, Dein was famed
From the lions heart, his every first sons rules.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem