The gong goes agog again
Alas it is the new moon
Abacus of man’s days
Testimony of the unstoppable time.
Yes, it is the third moon
Since last my back was wrestled upon the mat
Steeplechased fire of womanhood
Compound in me like the moneylender’s interest.
It is forbidden by tradition they say
For a man to touch his wife by twilight
He must gather strength for the day’s labour
From the soothing sleep of the morning’s freshest air.
I will not risk the taboo either
Of the lousy daylight baptism
That make the gods to deliver albinos
To couples who seek the seed at sunny times.
Thou unfailing crescent in the sky
Plead my cause this sinless night
Infect Adio with the power of the stallion
And me the strength to last his rein.
