Thursday, 3 August 2017

Pulse Blogger: Gbo mi [Listen to me]

Traditional Yorubas dancing

typically known as Ajanaku for the words he trades cannot be neglected by mortals, gods or incubus.

In the tradition of western culture

We do not listen to spirits who whistle to us

So if you long for me to come your way

It is of virtue you call me 'Abeke' my rooted name.


In the tradition of western culture

We give love to whom headgear fits the more

So if you hunt for me like a lioness does

You need to speak to me words in my mother's tongue.


In the tradition and western folkways

We give for a festival one hundred bean-cakes

We give a hundred pinches of salts for the mouths

So if you want me, bow for the bowl in my mother hands.


In the tradition and of western trace

We find melody in the mouth of nightingale

And steadiness by the feet of the snail

We find love trending in marketplace.


In the perception of Yoruba ethnicity

You canoodle the earth with both knees

And worshipped the feet of the gods

So to how you esteem your prospective in-law.


In the custom of Yoruba's tradition

You run hither thither to the one you love

From when she screams from subordinate hut

You must obsess to run and put a mountain chest on.


In the tradition of Yoruba's ethnicity

We do love like cowries jingles on waist-bead

We love like a soldier fights for loyalty

Like he does so on a battlefield.


In the prestige of western lore

We do not slap the staff of Oranmiyan

We do not with a broken pitcher fetch an honour

We do not put clothes by his hands to watch.


We consult the deities and mystic Oracle

When we sought to blow the fowl's arse opened

Those one who hear from the land of Iragbeje

Without twitching their ears in close ways.


We do not fight the buffalo for the grassland

We do not mate the one who sing us song of bananas

So we won't go to nap in their hearty scabbards

When they come with love that shrewd our heart.


Let not our bond be scorch by the sun

Let not our fond be severe by tongues

For now that my mirror has become your mirror

I will profoundly call you Akanni my beloved.



Written by Amore David Olamide

Amore David Olamide  is a revolutionary columnist and a poet that writes in parabolic style, conventional genre — and sees scenes in epic dynamism of traditional epilogues, eulogies and captivating artistic poetry. He's typically known as Ajanaku for the words he trades cannot be neglected by mortals, gods or incubus.

from - Nigeria's entertainment & lifestyle platform online

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