I can feel your pulse from here:
The watchman for Flee-Town.
I sat in the pinnacle
And saw the ants (black and white)
Streaming towards the city.
Here too I am my nation:
A piece of your earthly dream,
The necklace for poor neighbours,
And they say, “Come on boy,
A piece of you will feed us”.
O they won’t care to know you,
Where they don’t care to see you:
They say your streets are too red,
With sexless ageless lifeblood;
I can feel your pulse from here.
Here in the tower I stand,
Standby being my daily bread:
No omolankays, it seems,
Salute me as a chieftain;
But I feel your pulse from here.
Peace has always been my lot:
My teeth know no stream of tears,
Though my eyes keep pouring rains,
And nameless drops anoint my heart,
Leaving there th’emotion drops.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem