I REFUSE YOUR BEARDS OF LOVE

Aah! Wayiego, my beloved
Daughter of Warûi the valiant worrier,
From whose bow an arrow never missed its target.
My father is the lion
But isn’t your father,
The lion’s claws?

That evening of our meeting
Is still as fresh in my memory
As the milk from wangare, my father’s favourite cow
Your eyes,
Were as clear as the waters of river Muriega
And when you smiled,
The ground shook, my knees wobbled
For I was standing before a goddess!

Wayiego
I remember the soft supple fruits of your chest
So erect before the smiling moon
They stood so sharp, like your father’s spear
Inviting me to touch, and to fondle.
When you walked,
Your backside jumped rapidly like rabbits
And I knew right then,
That I desired you
Above my every desire.

Through you I discovered my manhood
You ignited the fire in my loins
And that fire, you say,
Has brought forth life
In the ways of our ancestors.
But tell me, Wayiego,
Can something born out of such pleasure
Be so abominable?
Yet I can’t father our fruit
And I can’t accept your love
For you are right,
Our union is an abomination.

I’m betrothed to the princess of Chief Waita
But you, my love
Is no princess
You’re the daughter of a fox
And I’m the son of a lion
Our union will be shunned upon by the ancestors
For the balance of nature must be maintained.
I hope you understand.

So with a heavy heart I refuse your beards of love
With a broken spirit I must shy away
From the warmth of your bossom
For I cannot go against the ways of our people
I cannot stick around to watch our child blossom
The balance of nature must be maintained Wayiego
I hope you understand.

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