(1965 / Abor, Volta Region, Ghana)

For Adzovi*

Come, Adzovi, come my love.
Come let us play at resolves
along paths by the stream
and stretch our heart’s desire.

Beneath the eaves of our mudhouse,
I'll wait even when the sky darkens
and the sniffing dog
is blanketed by night;
just promise you'll be there.

Ever since this note I’ve been
waiting at where the street cleaner
hasn't come in three weeks
and the drums of the Asafo Company**
rehearsing for the festival
are stilled by the deafening storm.

Adzovi, if you do not come this way
when do we begin mending
our broken dreams, and fade
memories of our reckless clouds
and carve essence for tomorrow?

When will we wipe off
the dust that pared us down
and made all our yesterdays fools?
Maybe, no one knows what happens
when love's boat smashes
against the Grim Reaper’s scythe
and all you remember is the suicide note
written when love's boat smashes
against daily groans.

Come, Adzovi,
let us play at resolves
along paths by the stream
and stretch our heart’s desire.

Beneath the eaves of our mud house,
I'll wait even when the sky darkens
and the sniffing dog
is blanketed by night
just promise you'll be there.

Ever since this note I’ve been
waiting at where the street cleaner
hasn't come in three weeks
and the drums of the Asafo Company
rehearsing for the festival
are stilled by the deafening storm.


[ADZOVI* is the weekday name given to a girl born on Monday and Asafo Company** is a fraternal organization of young men, who carryout relief activities of the village].

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