Our Poetry, Our Life Poem by Namie Elisha

Tap, tap, tap beats the drummer,
Accompanied by the town crier,
His little gong calling the villagers,
Little children begin to gather themselves,
pairing in twos, their little feet, ready to move,
The mothers leave her chores and call to one another saying,
Come, dance to our favouite tune,
The hungry babies, weak from tears,
Hurriedly forget their distress as they shook their heads to the beat,
Their faces exploding with laughter,
The men and their sons hear the drummer's call from their farms,
They dance to the village square to join the music,
The moon shines brightly as though saying,
yes, yes, gather! !
The crowd gathered and danced as the drummer began the beat,
They chanted as the melody began:
Long live our beat,
Long live our rhythm,
Long live a life of poetry.