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.