I will call your name a sweet song at morn
At the time the sun smiles at me at dawn
Let me see the beauty of all creatures and more
A thing of joy more reasons to ardor
Her presence a morning cake to man
I will call your name a sweet song at morn
If I call this name the more
The greater hands gives me the more
A secrete hidden from time of yorn
A life of gold laid as dust and battles won
Shall my life symbolize and mouths professed
No matter how many enemies I parade
If I call this name the more
A name a song put in my life to praise
Like the whistles of the wind full of melodies
Like the blacksmith's work purifying
A man and a home made fine
Praise Ronke the sound of my music
A gift about a world so specific
Like the whistle of the wind full of melodies
A name a song put in my life to praise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem