Tying an Omu twig,
I play my wind instrument
hence
for an elder,
with ichi marks, at whose birth
a kolanut broke into three.
How do I reward
with celebration and rites
as honours,
the hip that brought him?
Oh! The womb
bearing our ancestors
does store.
Here is to him
of Mburichi Nobility,
for whose role should be
to eat the first yam
of our crafting field.
- - whose art
is likened to a giant.
Your Chi, is in peace
with Chukwu, Okwudili,
as the lot etching
on the palms of your hand
breathes for the outer call.
Let Amadioha send lightning
to the evil shade
to inhabit the tree
from which you hew your arts;
if Ahobinagu would silence.
Marked black on the forehead,
may s/he be attacked
by a swarm of bees that would
rise against your gallery.
Let the sway be transfered
to a live goat, even,
that must be let loose
outside the walls of our settlement.
Who points a finger
at a Kolanut tree?
Or at a man who climbs
the Iroko tree
without the aid of strings?
My white clay marks you,
O heir of Obu kindred.
The lower forces participate
to make this offer
to Igwekaala - the god.
Let Chukwu feed you
with Azu-igwe like he did
Eri's; and may your crops too,
fertilize
like all were in Nri soil.
Udo diri gi, nwanne mmadu!
Faeo 'Lyre' Clive
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-okwy-obu/
