SUN SET AT DAWN: THE POETIC MYTH OF THE BEFORE DEMISE CONVERSATION OF KING JAJA OF OPOBO AND HIS ANCESTORS

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Who invokes evil spirit against me?
Who is it that calls my image in the dark coven,
One does not stand on a mortar,
And invoke the spirit of a King,
No one mounts a grindstone,
With intent to bewitch me,
Man cannot climb the Iroko tree
And employ a spiritist gang-up against a priest.

What exactly do you want?
What categorically is the issue?
Why do you want me dead?
Wherever you are, 
Come out to me, 
You can be courageous as I am,
Do not hide your identity.
If you would not confront me, 
Face to face,
Man to man, 
You would forthwith, 
Hold your peace,
I am not an ordinary man.

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Ah!
Ah!!
Are you the ones that beckoned on me?
These faces look very familiar,
What do they want from me?

We are your ancestors,
We have been on this throne before you were born,

What do you want with me?
What communion has the dead with the living?

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If a hoe cultivates a farm,
It will come back home;
If a cutlass clears the field,
It will come back home,
Thus, it your time to return home,
Ok King.

Make it clear.
Which home?
I am not ready. 
It is not my predestined time to exit.

King!
If a baby is mature in the womb,
It is a must it comes to life.
You have made enough efforts,
You have worked vigorously on your father’s land,
It is time you give someone else a chance,
For your own benefit,
Tidy your home,
Be prepared for the inevitable price.
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