Emi nye kwaakwaa debi;
Over the hills I watch daily
Into the farms I fly swiftly;
Looking for what they say is my destiny.
In the land of birds i may not fit as fairy
For I carry the colour man considers deadly.
I may eat soaps, even though it makes me drowsy.
But don’t forget you take in smoke, though it makes you dizzy.
Emi nye kwaakwaa debi

In my worries I ask; aso )b3y3yei debi?
But I find hope as men pay dowry
Though they lack the magic of the cowrie.
Being seen as idiot, I watch the vulture tread lazily
As though it might never raib heavily.
I smiled as men loved gently.
Now I wail as they kill vaguely
As though there is a bounty.
Off I swing to Kyebi
For Im clouded with pity.

Me dzin dze kwaakwaa debi
I carry the ills of humanity
Black and white, the classes of social ingenuity
Just corrupt as the backyard divinity.
The fear of generousity.
I may fly by your roof for curiosity
Though you brand me as uncertainty
I only live my fantasy
As you camp to listen to kodzi.

Haymaker ©2015