O there are flowers in Tamale

That smell like fire.

The Harmattan winds twiddle and toss them

But they never blink a colour.

I see the cross on the hill

And your hair scattered on the grass;

The heavens covered us

And we were happy in our love.

That glow of laughter has left me:

I have lost the light.

I hear the hush of trees

In this palpable darkness,

I stand still:

Did I hear you say:

The stars may show the way

But you have lost your love?

Yes I have lost my love,

And my eyes are no longer

Oases of ecstasy.

I have lost you

I have lost myself.

But a vision of your lyrical bosom

Floats like a ship on the storm

Of my delirious mind.

I have waited,

My mouth dry for your warm kisses.

I have waited:

The snake slithered through the grass

SlowIy, unheeded, silent like Time.

I have waited:

The winds bring no tidings;

They blow through the trees,

Through crevices and laugh.

But I no longer understand

The love-taught tongue

Of trees and winds,

The language I learned

In the childhood of our love.

I now speak the tittle-tattle of men,

Bewildered men meditatively kicking

White pebbles along unfrequented paths;

I speak their tittle-tattle

And the earth presses firmly against my feet.

Oh, I am tired of the winds,

And the long unheeded calls of a heart

Shrouded with pain.