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.