In the land of jollof wars and palm wine dreams, Where kente weaves tales of ancestral schemes, Ghana gathers, clad in vibrant hues, To celebrate life—the cosmic ruse.
Verse 1: The Fufu Feast
Behold the fufu feast, a starchy ballet, Where pounded yam pirouettes with grace. The mortars sing, "We crush your dreams! " As soup spills like secrets on eager plates.
Chorus: Hallelujah in Plantains
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! The plantains fry, Their golden skins crackling with irony. The gods sip palm wine, chuckling softly, "Life's a stew, my children—spicy and messy."
Verse 2: The Funeral Dance
At funerals, we wail, we ululate, Our dirges syncopated with borrowed grief. The coffin dances, a twirl of mahogany, While mourners Instagram their sorrow—oh, sweet relief!
Chorus: Hallelujah in Coffin Art
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! The pallbearers strut, Their shades hiding eyes that know too much. The ancestors nod, "Well played, my kin, " As the DJ spins "Azonto" at the graveside brunch.
Bridge: The Trotro Tango
Trotros—those wheezing metal beasts— Lurch through potholes, belching diesel prayers. Passengers cling, their faces etched with irony, "Lord, grant us speed bumps and air fresheners! "
Chorus: Hallelujah in Traffic Jams
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! The hawkers sell, Their wares defying physics—balancing acts. The tro-tro preacher shouts, "Repent, my brethren! " As we inch toward eternity, bumper to bumper.
Outro: Sunset Benediction (with a Twist)
As the sun dips low, casting shadows on kelewele stands, Ghana laughs—a belly-deep, palm-wine guffaw. Life, you sly trickster, we raise our glasses: "Cheers to chaos, to paradox, to this grand gala! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem