Our songs and daughters
remain our pride and delusional paradise
Our songs are sweet like fresh sugarcane soaked in undiluted honey
Crispy to the mouth
Engaging to the ears
Shoulder tickling
And triggering to the legs
Our songs are optimal even to the neutral ears
Ears that know little about its provenance
Our songs are salmagundi’s of various musical genres
Of all rhythms and pace levels
Our battle anthems are unbeatable and surreal
Our drummers are gung ho
They beat the dried animal skin like demented men
They beat it passionately like life depends on it
They wear grimaces sometimes and smiles sometimes pending on the sweetness of their sound
They make our elders glee and weakened
And instigate blissful nostalgia
Making them reminisce about the days when they were burly and muscular like bloated bears
And dangled their big shoulders up and down
Making their breasts dance to the war rhythm
The flutemen add vibe,beauty and melody
Twisting their bodies left and right
With legs deeply matching their dancing act
As their hands remain busy
Finding the right keys
Our daughters have beauty that resonates even the blind
The blind men seem happy when they are around our daughters
For beauty isn’t only visible
But is spiritual as it pervades the environment
Adding aura and fine feeling
Our daughters dance like beautiful flowers capitulating to the wind
They go so low and rise up in unison
As though they bow down to our princes ever second
Their legs hobble
left and right like waterproof lost in the breeze
The sound of their beads shaking as they jump here and there is already good enough music to the ears of the men
Our daughters sing
They sing like special birds
In the very happiest of moods
Their voices are angelic and lifting
They sing like their throats are as smooth nylon
They make us swell and lofty
Our daughters are turgidly charming
With shiny skin as though the rub silver as body oil .
Their smile can melt candle wax
And their hair coiffures are stunning, carrying the pride and beauty of our land .
Our songs and our daughters are our treasures
As the bring joy and laughter to the even the neutral
Our sons are there
They mount the drums and flutes.
The songs I speak of represent them
Our sons also own our daughters
So their wives represent them
We hope they understand why we speak only of our ‘songs and daughters’ !
Author: admin
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.
