In naked reflection of this day;
Our hearts we long to bare, with nought to hide
Through songs of passion, of soothing anthems
Yet now our heads wander and wonder:
What shall we sing? Of what should our voices ring?
The jolly songs of ease and bliss, our heads say
We ought to sing, building castles in air
Now our mouths we open but our hearts
In rebellion, take charge, deposing our heads
Singing a song that rends us into parts
With its bitter, pulsating rhythms
Limitless in an unbridled stream
“Vain is it for us to rise up early,
Vain is it for us to eat the bread of sorrows”;
Vain is it for us to languish yearly
Vain is it for us to in deep furrows
Narrow our eyes, tear-filled and shame-sodden
In imitation of the chameleon
Vain it is, vain it is, profane is this
Song of ours, which even our own ears torture
With merciless violence and injustice,
Intertwining them with alertness and oblivion
Rendering effete their renowned powers
So it is now, vanity we celebrate
This day of blessed resurrection
Of Freedom, its kingly name was proud of
And independence, in its queenly state
Takes delight, ineffable as the skies
Written by: Akinwunmi Gbenga Elijah
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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