Erín màmà ti lor
Àjànàkú lor nígbó
It is night again
after the sun had dissolved
into the twilight river,
beyond the reach of palms, the village
and the waking child
but its footsteps dwell on d sky
of earth and time
It is night again
when the street concurs
with the god of breathe and breeze,
when the drums of a final departure
are only heard by one
who would no longer rise with the next dawn
It is night, my friend
when goats and sheep return home
sitting by the walls, by the fences,
regurgitating all they have absorbed
through the day.
But Adeyi Òkín has refused to return
It is night
and we have all gathered,
with eyes full of watery songs
when I play the memorial flute
with sounds rising to the heavens,
and our elders with crossed legs and folded arms
are silently waiting, watching the stars
The Eight stars that cannot illuminate the night
It is the night again
and the child searches for night’s breasts
but stiffened breasts he holds
breasts that only shower dark waters
But what has happened this night
that the birds hum no song
and the winds do not blow towards
the trees of our neighbor-hood?
Oh child
open your eyes
and watch the moon sob quietly
on papa’s fallen hut
He has gone too far
beyond the reach of the living feet and
tongues of sages
He has paid his final debt of life
So child, when you see us gather once again
in your mind
we have come to remember the sun and
its rays of light
that dissolved before the break of dawn
The poem was written for my musician father, Debo
Akinwumi, who departed on the
night on the 19th of July, 2005. This is the 8th
year of his demise.
Written by: Victor Akinwumi
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
Related articles
- Vanity! (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
