In the wake of the 6th day of the 9th moon,
The hen barks and dog crows,
Sun in the night and moon in the day,
All for a new season melted with pleasantries,
For a king is born.
.
With a loafe heart i beckon my soul,
I tipped and leaned to view a spike of summer grass.
From this soil, this air,
Made the tip of my blood and language of my tongue.
.
Just as blood relation bequeaths children,
So my parents from the equivalent bequeathed me.
Age on the roadway race,
Hoping to end not till death.
.
And with the scene of the full-moon trill,
Hence, my song will sing again
.
THOMAS OLUWATOSIN
TEE-THOMAS (Fesrless Lines)