I wish I were a little nightingale
To sing again and take away the woes of Keats.
How I wish I were the cool and tender breeze
That comes under the cover of night... more »
B'éyìn jábó, omo inú è fóká....
I ran through the streets of sorrows to call on sons of joys,
my feet flow with blood but onlookers taste of it the sweetness of honey.
A cauldron in the icy home of a friendly witch,... more »