Let me have a bite Beside the shaped ancient teeth From the mythic kola Where only wisdom dwells. . Let me have a smoke From the ancient pipe Pulled out from aged toothless mouth That smells our untainted heritage. . Let me have a sip From the curved horns and cultured Calabash Filled up with ale and undiluted palm wine To intoxicate me with our heritage. . Let me have a seat Amongst the white beard heads To play the "local game" with stones So that I may be taught the bounds in my thoughts from From aged bloods that flows like euphrates into the garden of our motherland. . Let us have some music Sang with dry lips that echoes from soundless cave Infuriated with flutes, gongs and talking drums That we may dance-off our ignorance To see the chain left by our ancestors to be drawn.