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My Earth, My City And My Heartthrob - Literature - Nairaland

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My Earth, My City And My Heartthrob by Orikinla(m): 12:51pm On Jul 05, 2007
My Earth, My City And My Heartthrob

When the Atlas shook
The floors cracked under our feet
And the walls collapsed.
Coughs of inferno
Raining fiery ashes down
Fuel of fire flows.
Rising up higher
The waves swallow shells and sand
While the swimmers scream.

Lagos city crawls
Tortoise caught in winding paths
Lost in the jungle.
Heaps of refuse
Decorating the streets
With evil miasma.
Commuters picket
As pump prices
Of fuel rise.

Oh, humanity!
Why are you such a wonder
That makes me numb.
Only God knows how
How the wind in autumn blows
How the river flows.
Life is a prayer
Total submission to God
Overcomes the world.

I see the rainbow
In seven colours
When life is in bloom.
In the summer of love
Passions bloom like sunflowers
In garden of life.
Adeleke came
Our muse ascended higher
Reaching for the stars.

Stark silken tresses
Glowing eyelashes of night
The sheen of the moon.
Twin blinking brown balls
Golden eye lashes of dawn
In the rising sun.
Even heaven knows
What my heart is going through
All because of you.
In painted haiku
Flowers of our love unfold
As red roses bloom.

Cuando el atlas sacudarió
Los suelos se quebraron bajo nuestros pies
Y las paredes se derrumbaron.
Toses del infierno
Lloviendo las cenizas ardientes abajo
Combustible de los flujos del fuego.
Levantamiento encima de más arriba
Los shelles y la arena del trago de las ondas
Mientras que los nadadores gritan.

Arrastres de la ciudad de Lagos
La tortuga cogió en caminos de la bobina
Perdido en la selva.
Montones de la basura
Adornar las calles
Con miasma malvado.
Piquete de los viajeros
Como precios de bomba
De la subida del combustible.

¡Oh, humanidad!
Porqué está usted tal maravilla
Ese marcas yo entumecido.
Solamente el dios sabe
Cómo el viento en otoño sopla
Cómo fluye el río.
La vida es un rezo
Sumisión total al dios
Supera el mundo.

Veo el arco iris
En siete colores
Cuando la vida está en la floración.
En el verano del amor
La floración de las pasiones tiene gusto de los girasoles
En el jardín de la vida.
Adeleke vino
Nuestro muse ascendió más arriba
El alcanzar para las estrellas.

Tresses de seda rígidos
Pestañas que brillan intensamente de la noche
El brillo de la luna.
Hermane las bolas marrones del cekntelleo
Latigazos de oro del ojo del amanecer
En el sol de levantamiento.
Incluso el cielo sabe
Con qué mi corazón está pasando
Todos debido a usted.
En haiku pintado
Las flores de nuestro amor revelan
Como rojo las rosas florecen.


"Darling," he said as he handed AbbaBabbi the white piece of paper.
"Thank you Toni," AbbaBabbi said with a smile.
Toni got up from the sofa and glanced at his wristwatch. Then he took a swig from the  bottle of Coca-Cola and sighed. He put the bottle on the table and looked up at AbbaBabbi.
He admired the tall and proud looking African in a blue cardigan and blue denim pants. 
"I have to go. Anna must be waiting for me."
"I am lucky to have a fellow poet as my translator," AbbaBabbi said cheerfully.
"I am glad you helped me to correct the poems I wrote in English," said Toni. "And I look forward to spending the Christmas with you in Lagos," he added.
"Lagos would be good for a passionate Spanish poet," AbbaBabbi said as he opened the door.
"My friend Prince Ibrahim Sanusi, married a beautiful Spanish woman and they live in Lagos. She would be delighted to meet a poet from her land."
Toni nodded.
They shook their right hands and Toni left in his 2006 Lexus.
AbbaBabbi picked up the empty bottle of Coca-Cola and took it into the kitchen. He came back into the living room and relaxed to read My Earth, My City And My Heartthrob again.
He knew that translating his collection of poems into Spanish would be profitable.
"Spanish is the second most popular language in America," Toni told him.


The Christmas came and Toni did not even send any Christmas greeting card to him.
He made several phone calls and sent many e-mails, but Toni never responded. He was worried. He never knew that Toni had cancer. Toni did not mention it to him. He found out when he returned to New York and met Angie in Times Square. She was the one who introduced Toni to him when he was looking for a literate Spanish translator.
"Toni has cancer and returned to Madrid," she said plaintively.
"But why did he not tell me?" AbbaBabbi asked.
"He did not want anybody to feel sorry for him," Angie explained.
AbbaBabbi swallowed a lump of saliva and nodded.
She gave him Toni's address and kissed him before boarding the M42 bus.
AbbaBabbi turned back and went to Cafe Vivaldi. He would dedicate his next recitation to Toni. And he would say a prayer for him.
God can heal my friend.

N.B:
I wrote this complimentary short story in honour of the Spanish Poet, Toni Lozano, the translator of my Scarlet Tears of London, to mark the first anniversary of the publication of Scarlet Tears of London.

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