Raining Day

See these bending drops

Beating everything everywhere

And dancing like the mad

And wind tossed masquerades of the Egun.

Touching us with all abandon and no caution.

 

Here in Efulefu, they drop pa…pa…paah

And remind us of our teacher’s pelting whips,

Until we that have these legs and sense

But without a cover

Have to run from the falling arrows come.

 

But soon, my mother’s husband is silent

And his old boy, Mr Wind keeps his mum.

For no one will know he came here,

If not for the wedding gift

With which he wet our mother earth.