Oh my dear Adwoba,
The hen that lays her
Eggs in and out of season,
It does not take four
Market days to make
A virtuous woman complete,
For the great vulture
Has no bed but he
Entertains sound sleep,
Thou have made me aware
That when a poor woman
Loves her dear child,
She cannot prove it
Through material gains,
For the glamorous beads
Around thy hips can even
Be traded for my life,
Who heard the whisper?
Has the Gods who make
Dreams come true heard it?
May be, the horn is too
Heavy for the mighty head
That should carry it,
Listen dear, Listen!
Listen and taste the palm wine
Pouring out of my heart,
And give ear to my cry,
For anyone who does
Not know the horn message
Of his chief gets lost
At any major dispersion.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email:
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