Dear mother,
Tell me about the nights
You spent by the baobab,
Dancing and twitching your hips
To the tunes he made.
Tell me now,
Was he not magnificent,
When he fought the war for you?
He laid his tributes at your feet,
And made you chief of all maidens.
Your heart stood tall,
And declared him champion.
He had come at the right time,
And brought your fears to judgement.
He is the hero for us.
Now mother don't cry,
Because he had served his purpose.
He has ascended the divine,
He is still within us,
The hero that is no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem