FOR WOLE SOYINKA

Wet wood in blazing hearth,
Erudition will not burn
In the flames
Of untutored tongues-
Yet it may dance
to their stuttered tunes.

My heart-drum beats
Its solitary accompaniment
To my humble tone-
I sing for
One with a voice so deep
And pure-
Let him dance, o, let him hear!

Hallowed voice will not dissolve.
Air rises
From rebornable leaves
To quicken the resolves
Of many more-
Consecrated black
That whips away the dark.

See! It rouses new ones:
New voices
That are but echoes
Of the old, bold, ever-vibrant voice.

And though the mouth
Must someday be closed,
The life it has breathed
Will linger still;
Till all the traders, beggars
And thieves have gone
Their various ways
To their various homes.
And this market closes
Her silenced gates.

FOR WOLE SOYINKA

Wet wood in blazing hearth,
Erudition will not burn
In the flames
Of untutored tongues-
Yet it may dance
to their stuttered tunes.

My heart-drum beats
Its solitary accompaniment
To my humble tone-
I sing for
One with a voice so deep
And pure-
Let him dance, o, let him hear!

Hallowed voice will not dissolve.
Air rises
From rebornable leaves
To quicken the resolves
Of many more-
Consecrated black
That whips away the dark.

See! It rouses new ones:
New voices
That are but echoes
Of the old, bold, ever-vibrant voice.

And though the mouth
Must someday be closed,
The life it has breathed
Will linger still;
Till all the traders, beggars
And thieves have gone
Their various ways
To their various homes.
And this market closes
Her silenced gates.