Through the windy forest I travel,
Heading towards the rising of glories,
Endlessly I on the wormy footpath trek.
Then, on my way a man I find,
Resting his bent back on an Iroko tree against,
Answering himself the irresistible call of nature to,
Very appealing he once was my eyes can tell,
Every bone under his skin now to stay upright does struggle.
Like the chirping of cricket his voice to me comes:
'Lonely traveller did you on your way any lady met?
Even the ugliest one there in the world may find?
Render such to me and she I would gladly my wife make.'
All the laughter in my ribs barely I can suppress,
Now in this world abound wonders and wonders alike,
Does the earth ever notice the craziness it harbours?
To him my voice can not but speaks:
'How yourself you trouble so old man?
Ever heard you the beauty of my words? '
'Bring yourself together and my words listen to,
Ready yourself a husband to become to them.
If only to my words you could be betrothed,
Day and night your comforter they would become.
Even if possible to another life for you to come.'
'Seek you no more the tender hearts of women to break,
End you your malicious quest for heavier bossoms to suck,
Even too your crave for fuller hips to hold,
Keep to your words and promises always and no more lies utter,
Even when beautiful maidens all the time you meet,
Remember my words and never their innocence play on.'