Lady, a rose marry
Smelling so sweet
With a supple waste
That seems to ask you
To encompass it with your arms
For protection
Against harsh climatic evaporation
But not for eternity
For she is anticipating age
A woe which is to bring dotage
An aggressive symbol of old woman age
With a fallen breasts
And contracted dead skins
like tattered cloth engulfing a banana plant
That exacerbates her prime stage
Age! you see... had turned her lips
To banana stalks
And rendered them redundant for any task
Lady, console your soul to have rest
For thou art become the love conquest
With the acceptance of love request
Cast off thine coyness!
Two thousand times I will compliment thine kindness
Three thousand tongues to derogate thine harshness
Rose! allow this reaper
To pluck thine astonishing flower
For woo shall bring not woe
And rose-marries are not for eternity
'From Osun State, Nigeria'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem