Yoruba [African] Bride
Mo te' ni. Mo te' ni
Sun mo mi, we mo mi
Our beautous chattel,
Ripe and ripe as these glistening fountains
Let the knowingness of the moment
Frolick nigh your jugging breasts
Held high 'bove these dancing waist-beads
Sun mo mi, fa mo mi
Yarabi lo m'eyi t'o le d'omo
Our African mound,
Formed amid the twigs of strangers
Let your full buttocks, round as full moon
In a low sky at night
Sway and shake farther than the lithe beads
Mo te' ni. Mo te' ni
Sun mo mi, we mo mi
Our Yoruba maid,
Let these calabash-cups and gourds
Guide your course past famished paths of envy
Your tugging flash of black
Will adorn the supple 'sanyan'
Sun mo mi, fa mo mi
Yarabi lo m'eyi to' le d'omo
Ebony glaze across the African maze
Let your laali-tinted toes, tiro-rimmed eyes
Throw your cold spirit yonder
Beneath those eaves of manly haven
The sun scotches you no further
Mo te' ni. Mo te' ni
Sun mo mi, we mo mi
We give our blessings upon your
Sparse pale brown head
Even the gods do little
Let these broken calabash patches
Bring you offsprings, sweetly brittle
poem by Oludipe Samuel
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
