The Whistle Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

To the valley of birth,
To the valley of vision,
To the valley of love;
Yes! ! Of a sound guideline in the land of my muse,
And like the fowls of the high mountains.

The king's spear!
Soon the fisherman will mourn;
And like the love of the inheritance of Beersheba.

Clean it well to its further limits and it will be yours;
And like the beasts of the earth,
Because, i have taught them with my wisdom and i know their thoughts.

It is very sad that, religion separates people;
But to the Yebusite City i will rest my mind,
And like the muse of your sweet love in the land of unity.

Baalath Beer! !
Let us teach our children kindness;
And like the prints from the soles of my feet.

She laboured and gave birth in pain!
But try to clean your mind before you give out the children's bread to the dog;
For, adultery is sin.

The valley of salt,
The valley of sugar,
The valley of pepper! !
And like a donkey's head sold for eighty shekels;
But, let us teach our children kindness.

To purify yourselves in the gardens,
In the very time of your troubles;
For, many have really chosen their own ways in this life!
And like climbing Mount Nebo to the top,
However, the referee blew the whistle for us to start the game.