In the cool of the day you steal in
As wanning lamp in the dying sky
Announcing the funeral of the day.
Before dusk, many an ingorant kid
Your deceitful simle sends to farm
Only to meet a bright night ahead.
The curfew your presence declares
In the cosmo causes traffick above
That helter-skelter we run beneath.
This most friendly enemy of man
Has not once repented like Peter
Often, he makes Judas of himself.
Yet on your half, a tongue strife
For freedom from claw of parasite
But not from nemesis and fate:
Flagging a saga that will not last
Like an Abiku with scars of identity
That hail from his entries and exits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem