L’aruge | Promotion |
Emi l’ogel’etiahon | I am the sap on the tip of the tongue |
Ahoniyakogbọdọgbẹ | The mother’s tongue must not become dry |
ẹtisaahoniyas’orun | You have exposed the mother’s tongue to the sun |
orunt’omuhanhan | A scorching sun |
itọ n gbẹ, ahonnru | Saliva is drying, the tongue shrinking |
igbawol’ahonna ‘onigbẹ | When will the tongue not dry out |
Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge |
Promote me, beautify me |
An kanitosiodo | We drip saliva into the river |
Aniọlajuni | We say it is ‘being civilised’ |
Odokomonkannkan, on rulọ | The river felt nothing, roars on |
Talakat’on se saraf’olowo | The peasant giving alms to the rich man |
Kosai ma peoshiounpelekesini
Ẹniawifunbajẹk’ogbon |
Only increases his poverty, the warned, O Lord, may he reason |
Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge
|
Promote me, beautify me |
Tani ‘ofẹgẹsin, | Who does not wish to ride a horse |
Owe l’ẹsinọrọ, | Proverb is the horse of the word, |
ọrọl’ẹsin owe | Word, the horse of the proverb |
ati oweatiọrọ, ahonni papa won, | The tongue is field for both |
papa l’ẹnkanilẹyi | The field you are rolling away |
Yoruba ronu, kojinle | Yoruba think, deeply |
Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge
|
Promote me, beautify me |
K’amapadabuoyinbo | So we may not blame the white man (later) |
Odo ti komo wipewon fun itọsioun, | River that knows not saliva is being squeezed into it |
Oyibogbeitọrẹl’aruge, odiodo, | White man promoted his saliva, it became a river |
Awawa n da itọsisinu re | And we pour saliva into it |
Bẹsilagbon, oyesiwa | And we are thoughtful, full of wisdom |
Sugboniwawakojọbẹ | But our acts is different to these |
Gbemil’arugẹ, shemi loge
|
Promote me, beautify me |
Omoẹniibajọẹni | If only a child had taken after one |
Inuẹniiba dun | The heart would have been gladden |
Ai bikitani won fi ede se | Lackadaisical with the language, they are |
Ede, atọkaẹni, Koyẹka fi yẹpẹrẹ | Language, one’s identity, we should not make a trifle |
Abọọrọ fun ọmọluabi | Half word for the citizen |
T’obade’nu a di odindi | Digested, becomes whole |
Ti won banitani o kọorinewiyi | If you are asked the author of these verses |
Eniemini, emi, AyindeAjirifẹ, fi ọkans’ọgbon | Say it is me, I, AyindeAjirife, who says thirty (words) with one (word) |
Turaki Ile Ojude, Ọmọ ileateniwijọ | The Turaki of Ile Ojude, son of the house where mat is spread for talks |
K’ọrọpẹpẹpẹ ma ba ta danu | So little talks may not pop away |
Ọmọ Lalataogboja, Ọmọlabalabaetiwẹru | The spoilt one, the flap eared butterfly |
Awa ni, ẹnu dun iyọtẹẹ ! | We are the one, mouth so sweet salt sours! |