
Many a sad song have I sung to the one that makes us two
When pɛpi with all its thirst for our water fades into yesterday,
I feel the rain drip through the cracks left on my lips
I think about all the life that the rain will bring
And how my tears will be drowned again
So, let the azagunɔ put his palm over the Gana
And the dancers break up their joyous kinka
Into melancholic delibrations
For I will be sombre again
Many a beauteous moment has attended my waking hours
When the noon sun goes down and takes its scourge with it,
I see the smiling moon pour secrets into the river
That runs away back to the place whence it came
And I know it will come again
So, let the azagunɔ rub his sticks over the Gana
And the dancers with their loins girded,
Spring into happy movements of gaŋu
For I will be cheery again
x.k
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