The Heir
The yoke of bandage and the children of the desolate,
Cast out the bonbwoman and her son!
For the children of she who has a husband will,
Have a son as the heir on the thrown! !
The south wind blew like the seed of the chosen one,
And i hope to see you soon by my kinsmen;
But do rescue the free woman as the sign of hope.
Of the danger met at sea and of the armour of light!
Peace is the mind at rest as compared to a wide open mouth;
For the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Asia, Bithyna, the Metropolis and the Adriatic Sea!
You are puffed up with pride without the heir;
But the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Man came from the clay and woman came from man,
But the heir is already noted among the children of women;
And the day comes when the bloom of your flowers will be exposed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
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