When the moon closed her eyes
And the starlet night faded away into a lover’s
bosom
All my fruits one after the other fell on the
ground
If it were not your grasses which covered the
hard ground
I would have been torn apart without repair.
a source of reechoing an integral part of the African tradition, belief and way of life, merging it with the changing currents of this world and the African view on the here after through the means of poetry recitals and writings.
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