I stand up on my two feet
I bow till my head touches my navel
I prostrate and my forehead becomes glued to earth
And the king is Omo Oba Alade Ijero's uncle
We hail thee, The Ataoja of Oshogbo.
(For the monarch of the city of Oshogbo, Oba Iyiola Oyewole Matanmi, for his goodwill.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem