I miss the place of the rising sun; For nothing makes my hair stand here. No one to sing me my very ‘oriki,’ Nor the slightest ‘se dada loji?’
I miss the place of the ‘gangan’ beats; For no meals shakes my tongue here. No one to make me ‘efo oni kpomo’ with ‘iru,’ Nor the slightest ‘garri’ of ‘ijebu.’
I miss the place of the ‘aso ofi;’ For no clothes touches my sight here. No one to tap me that very ‘emu oguro,’ Nor the slightest good-sauced ‘eja odo.’
For if not for the clarion call, Oh! let ‘egbe’ come take me home, With the real speed of ‘monomono.’