Pour us more Palm-wine!
Said the groom as he stood
Mama sodiq, you sell the best Palm-wine in this village
Palm-wine! Palm-wine!!
Poured into the cup of my consciousness,
As I move through today, I call on you to give me
Thy guide as I dive into the storm of weaving waters
Ever since that day, blessed by the gods
When I met my Ajoke, at the òdún ìgęsún night
Adorn greatly with sweaty shaking breeded waist
Of the Omidans of our village
Bimpe! Kunle's resting stool,
The little mouse àlonpé from the village of Alarape,
With the help of mope, yours is not the matter of kowope.
Your intellect surpasses that of wole the head of the palace gaurds
Moving from one palm tree to another
Just to get my message to ajoke
Bode ògbójú ode
A rare friend whose great guns of words
Fired down enemies standing as storms
I pray you find true love with Dupe
Iya olu, thy words are divine
The milk of experience through which my suckle lips
Drill out knowledge from thy breast helping me
To solve the puzzles of life
I pray you  live long to see thy grand child......