The year is withering; the wind blows down the leaves.
Men stand under eaves,
While waiting for the coming of a new baby,
There your joyous father once stood;
5. And shouted to us “my new born baby is a female”.
Wecame to rejoice with him,
Back then in 1993
Here once lay Islamiat;
Now Mustapha’s golden girl
10. You must be from my country,
I see it by the tick of your soul around the eyelashes;
And besides you dance when you are sad.
You must be from my country.
You are a great soul!
15. Your mother knows this,
Your uncle told me so;
And your father is proud of you.
There’s something different about your smile,
It’s like a rainbow that goes for miles.
20. There’s something easy about talking to you,
Cause you make me feel like I know you so.
When the story shall be told,
No matter whose beauty it shall report,
You are the most beautiful.
25. Then it was your afternoon,
And love was in your eyes,
Your virgin moon is out again.
Great Islamiat! You really deserve to be celebrated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Olalekan. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.