I Just a little Joy Hope your day was well spent Even when some roads were bent And when all goals were not met So many lacks, not much to get Hope in your heart you sure can bet That at least some joy was felt Hope you cleared off even a little debt Hope your day was well spent.   Friend, my day was well-spent Though some roads were bent Though not all goals were met Though too many to clear, the debt One thing, one hope, I sure can bet That there was at least some joy I felt And all my best thanks to God, sent Today, dear friend, was well spent.   II Lost A song to the ones who are lost A song to the victims of war A song to the souls that have lost sense of self to canons of war.   Ọlálékan! I remain a married virgin I am the widowed bride That awaits the coming of her groom Will my dusk never cease? Will my night bring no bliss? Olalekan! You are but the dusk The Taurus dusk, That confined me to celibate vows Are you gone or lost? Have you licked the dust? Will my dawn never come? On the once green hills now turned plains Where their chaotic fireballs kissed the dust Their barks stiffened sucklings to death The mournful pleas turned on deaf ears You sought succour for your newlywed But their piercing dart hits the bullseye The conjugal drums played amorous dirge Their destructive tambourines did fireworks See, dancing massacred bodies with their ubiquitous presence But Olalekan did not dance with them Ọlálékan, you disappeared. Where are you, my love? The Virgin cried on her wedding night The Virgin cried for the dawn Is my dawn forever lost? Ọlálékan! You were my dawn. You are my dusk. Would the gong rather not proclaim your demise? Than the wait for a lost one Come, my love! Come be my dawn! I wait in my Chantilly gown Till at long I no longer can.   Hope to the ones who have lost Hope to the victims of war Hope to the loved ones of the lost Who live in anticipation of their return.   III To a Weary Soul As long as the earth is round Know this, my weary friend. Even if the cumbrous globe Rests on your shoulders And on yours alone And the ever-raging waters Turbulently engulfs you You gasp for life, for breath And all around you exhume nothing But despair and melancholy No lever to lift the load No neck to stand the head Keep that head on your shoulders And strut tall, my weary friend For alone, life’s ferry conveyed you in Alone, you truly will be Like the legs in a dirndl You think you were disavowed No, you’ve always been alone From the commencement of the Copernican system To the moment I speak, weary friend Don’t be weary my friend, Save your last breath to acclaim That eclat which my echoic song foresee   IV Life Life’s bed, dear friend Is always not of roses And even if it is Could have a pillow of thorns Or a bed of prickles.   Life’s oven, dear child May not always bake bread And even when it does Could burn the bread so bad That you can’t take a bite.   Life’s success, dear friend May not always be guaranteed And even when it’s not It’s just one of the rainy days The sun will soon shine.