Night I thank you,
For saving me from the laborious day,
For releasing me from the captivity of the sun,
For protecting me from matilda of the rain.
No rest paves way for the day,
Except the matinee play at noon,
After bending, grinning, squatting, and sweating hard,
To axe out from the iroko massages,
And sieve reefs from the river.
Another anticipation comes to me,
When the blue moon emerges,
That my bed pays me welcome,
After chasseur has convinced my appetite,
And chasse appends my heavy feet.
Heavy storm blows my weak brow a close,
Oft, I am lured to see the hallucination,
Of nothing else in the world,
But the rubbles amongst the rubies.
if not for night, restlessness might have killed human being.
wonderful artistic write up. keep the good work going bro....
wonderful artistic write up. keep the good work going bro...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Heavy storm blows my weak brow a close, Oft, I am lured to see the hallucination, Of nothing else in the world, But the rubbles amongst the rubies. so many points packed up.... very nice poem dear friend. tony