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O dearest beloved!
Black lapis lazuli,
That glows like Guinness.
Living image of Aphrodite;
My beloved, my mother.
If the sun is what,
The moon needs to alight,
The stygian night sky,
Then you are all I needed,
To illuminate my world.
Oh my mother,
Heaven blesses your hands!
May all that you touch, glow!
Oh dearest beloved,
A woman stronger than,
The strongest iroko tree!
Oh my mother, see,
Whenever I look at you these days,
I still hear those sleep-invoking lullabies,
Whistling in my ears like a flute decorating,
The unmistakable beats,
Of a ceremonial drum.
Oh, my beloved, my mother!
You that watched over me,
As I took my first faltering steps.
Should it be a surprise,
That the flowers of the fields,
In all their unarguable beauty,
Become jealous when you’re abroad?
Oh, my mother;
Oh, my beloved!
Oh, woman of Africa!
Woman of the upland rice fields,
You that resemble the noonday sunshine.
Daughter of Nana Kru;
Wayfarer of the River Cavalla.
I pour my heart out to you, beloved.
Oh my mother,
Black African sapphire,
Wave your lappa and dance,
Dance to the sound of every beat.
Dance, my beloved;
Dance, my mother,
For this song is for you.
This was written by our contributing writer, Emmanuel Gleekia.
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