In the square of the hanging palms
where the white sands sifts softly underfoot
and geckos and lizards know to stay away
the elders sit in quiet contemplation chewing kola nuts

Come, you son of tomorrows for its time
Soon you will go into the forest to find your mettle
for the Night of a thousand whispers beckons
where you will meet the headless warriors with three legs
and the talking calabash will ask of you where bravery lives

You will traverse in honour grace on your own
for now the hills says you are no longer a stranger
and your hand now reaches over your head to your ear
you will get a sheath for your sword and the armlet of a deity
that holds the charms of all the braves who wore your blood
know that the tears of your mother was shed only at your birth

You are a son of the land made of water and lightning
Sango gave you heart of fire while you drank the milk of tigress
before the oracle it was divined that your road leads in frontage
go resolutely with the cured spirit of the blazing sun at noon
remember some days ahead you will walk alone, its ordained
walk wisely like the tiger with the sleight of the regent beast
Know that in your river blood flows the tales of the unvanquished
the tenacity of the lynx and the ****** of your sword cleaves solid
go and do not look back, your path is true and  the Creator sees!