Your beauty is a mystery,
The ęwa that the sun can not
Withstand,
Your smiles that scholars
Can not fathom.
Ajoke, the aręwa of our village,
I had known you since you came Of Age.
Adesina the only heir to the Oba,
The Queen said he hasn't be sleeping since
He saw at the yam festival.
Balogun, the warrior of our village,
Promised the King 300 victories to have you,
Ayankola the prominent drummer,
That performs at the village square,
His 'konga' gives vulnerability to hips,
He wonders what have become of yours,
Odewale, the best village Hunter,
He has sent his wives packing to have you.
Alamu, the village woodcarver,
That carved even Oduduwa,
He has no clue how to carve your beauty.
Bashiru, the son of omowumi,
The palmwine tapper,
His is ready so supply 300 kegs to have you.
Olaniyi, the biggest village farmer,
With plenty of barns, is ready to
Give all this for your beauty.
Ajoke Ashake you are the goddess
Of beauty!
The beauty bird sing for,
That attraction men speak of,
The smiles poets write of,
Your beauty is a mystery!
To her who never noticed me
But her name protest to leave my lips.