In the chronicles of recent times,
Of a time called today;
The scribes wrote about the dawn,
Forgetting the terrors of the night before.
"The dawn", they say "gave hope
"Of some exciting things new"
But more treasures lay ahead,
With the advent of a bright sunny day.
As this dawn grew into the golden morn,
The tales of the scribes would take a twist.
For the silvery clouds would hide the rays
And one could wish they never came to stay.
And we wish we stayed in the dawn
Which was never meant to be forever
Since each of dawn, morn, day and Eve
Always passes to come no more
'Yet', on goes the scribe's dreary tales,
"With hours gone, clouds darker came
"And then came the downpour unrelenting
"As if to quench a never dying flame all-consuming
Now with Twilight almost upon us,
And our hopeful gazes never piercing through,
"The beautiful golden sun makes it back
"To her chambers for a night's rest, unseen"
"And so another dreadful night ahead
"Completes the latest tale by the writer
"About how we hoped for what never came" -
'The mood of my country today'
Sleeping through the night in wakeful silence,
I pray in tears: for a brighter mood by morrow
Is all for God to grant - Naija's mood today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem