No longer
shall you remain
a suckling
needing milk
from your mother's breast
No longer
shall your fire
be ignited by ignorance
and your progress
crippled by culture
No longer
shall your sun
rise at mid-day
and set before dusk
No longer
shall your seed tarry
beneath the earth
or your bountiful harvest
a feast for goats
No longer
shall your children
remain children
if the old bribe death
let God visit them with judgment
No longer
shall the scarecrow of things past
haunt the present
till it becomes another scarecrow
to a pregnant future
you have come of age
in statue and in strength
with beauty you blossom
like the iroko
you are tall enough
to stand
shoulder to shoulder
looking at your devil in the eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem