He have a song, a long promised song
That which made them sob
The song our ancestors long to hear us sing
That they sang amidst the trumpets of war
How we wish the sun never goes down the hills
They came in the dark shadows of the night
The hides like black panthers and plunge our homes
At sunrise, Syria became the scene of our homes
The Sambisa warlords brought it to our kinsmen
Who atlast will save my people from this plague?
Idobe must live and not fades into shady myths
Ameju must not go down the memory lane
Okpoga must not sink into history
Okpokwu must see the sunset
We are the great tribes
Greater than the northern caliphate
We are the seven sons of Idoma
Born and forged with the bond of unity
Though you cut us to sheol
Burn our houses with horns of bitterness
You may cut us down with your bitter hate
Never shall the grazing serpent colonize our land
We die and we live
As free men, singing this song to our offspring
Idoma live and not die
Idoma ride the horse of destiny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fabulous....I can see some Poisson distribution of the reality in idoma land