There sitted a Majestic figure
Of dazzling beauty that lures.
In her hands held a future
Who none in her presence dares conjure.
In seasons of rain, fog and sun
She devotes to tend her Sun.
Who dares hurt the Crocodile’s son?
Alas, he already learnt to swim-run.
Do you see her dance to unknown beats?
Or roam like waist beads when there are sits?
Or her sudden undefined laughters?
Or her Ankara wrapper on gown that’s fabric differs?
How Beautiful she holds on to her beloved.
Alas, in the dazzling look, anger homed
Should you punish her wards,
You have sent for rain of crazy words.
‘Ba mi na omo mi, ko de inu Iya re.’