Imagine Ogun born by a prominent Akanda Ajakaye Ajakorun,
Omó Óba gángán loba,
born by the hurried miracle of envy and rescue,
Kò sí eni tí ó ma gùn esin ti kó ni
ju ípákó. Bí kó fe ju ípako, esìn tí ó ngùn à je kojū.
When Hiss legs are crossed among chimneys of canopies,
the wildly cozy ghetto raises the spirally hazy vapour
for the iron and fires of His glory,
the defensive angels of Shadrach of Meshech,
the Meshech dances of Abednego,
madden the horns of his falls and mistakes,
inà bi irín, irín bi inà…
Iná to tí ri irín posí é.
A man thrown and discarded
at the broken fear of his Islamic and Catholic prophecy,
a milky prophecy is a magnetic force,
how dare you?
A burnt child fears the fire?
Ogun atorúnwa ki n kabamo irín ifura
atí itení lorí Àye.
He is the cold light of the day,
projected horses for certain courses,
teach him to strike stones
and he will create a burning burning bush.
Teach him the tumbling seeds of masters
and he jingle flowers of leadership.
His love is a magical spell
and I am a lucky blood of Ógun Chilling.
Allow him your cornered muds of coconut roofings,
his brooms and stone men will
resonate you of Ajakaye Akóle bi eye,
a mansion awaits a heart after his conscience.
Teach him how to kill the world,
he will buttress your lectures in the doom of black demons.
Trim the branches of an iroko tree
while it is young,
if it matures of completely it cannot be bent again.
A pe ko to jeun, ki je ibaje,
a man who watches fears the fire before the meal,
my tongue road maps more
but I fear his steps at the staircases again,
Kings don’t knock in castles.
Ajakaye Rashidat Olamidayo.
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