Ede Yoruba

The dawn of thy nightmare beckons,

Thy Children has given up to be sold;

They said our Èdé Yórùba is archaic and old;

I wont dare betray my tongue for a second.

The learned said thou is for the poor,

Èdé Yórùba, thou the language of the gods,

The brave ones that revere thee are called the clods,

Èdé Yórùba, thou a noble that enters ethereal doors

I cry for my dearest Èdé Yórùba

Thy daughters tongue has forsaken thee,

Thy sons has taken after the foreign deeds;

My clansmen has killed thee Èdé Yórùba

This generation knows thee small,

Next generation may know thee not

Thou the most beautiful of the lot,

Why thou made Èdé Yórùba sullied like a whore?

Èdé Yórùba, thou my true identity,

How can I resurrect thee my first love?

From the shackles pitched to their turf,

Come back to us before we lose our sanity;

Èdé Yórùba kó gbùdo kù,

Edé Yórùba has done you no wrong,

I rebuke those that dump thee, my mother tongue,

When thou rescind her at home and at schools,

My dialect is old but still very clean,

Thou made her like the language of the ditch;

Lets raise her from our inflicted pit;

Edé Yórùba is dying and becoming lean

Why paint her like the scary one:::

Why thou tag her mad for the poor,

Thou made her a vernacular at thy door

Edé Yórùba extinction is near .. I warn

Edé Yórùba kó gbùdo kù,

O' My clansmen wake up from thy dirts

Why thy inheritance hasten to death?

Omo oduduwa; asa wa kò gbùdo  nú

Poem: “Èdé Yórùba ” by Olorunleke Odubote