OODUA’S ECHO
Fifty Sonnets on Yorubaland
An Original Collection
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Canto I: The Foundations of the Earth
The Descent at Ife (VIII) – The creation of the world.
The Forge of Ogun (I) – The birth of iron and civilization.
The Crown of Idanre (IV) – The sacred hills.
The Iroko’s Shadow (XXI) – The sentinel of the forest.
The Staff of Oranmiyan (XI) – The pillar of history.
Canto II: The Deities and the Deep
6. The Thunder King (VI) – The majesty of Sango.
7. The Sacred Grove (III) – The river of Osun.
8. The Crossroads of Esu (XIV) – The trickster’s wisdom.
9. The Wisdom of Ifa (XXXIX) – The binary of the divine.
10. The River’s Secret (XLIV) – Water as the source of life.
Canto III: Kings, Queens, and Conflict
11. The Alaafin’s Court (XXVIII) – The power of Old Oyo.
12. The Sacrifice of Moremi (XXXII) – The heroine of Ife.
13. Sungbo’s Eredo (IX) – The great ramparts of Ijebu.
14. The Amazon’s Echo (XX) – The female warriors.
15. The Ooni’s Beaded Veil (XLI) – The sacred monarchy.
Canto IV: The Fabric of Life
16. The Indigo Vat (V) – The art of Adire.
17. The Weaver’s Loom (XXIV) – The legacy of Aso Oke.
18. The Calabash Carver (XXXVI) – Etching history on the gourd.
19. The Palm-Wine Gourd (XIII) – The liquid heart of fellowship.
20. The Scent of Egusi (XXXIV) – The flavor of home.
Canto V: Rhythms of the People
21. Gangan’s Echo (II) – The speech of the talking drum.
22. The Market’s Song (VII) – The pulse of commerce.
23. The Juju Strings (XVII) – The electric sound of the night.
24. The Village Square (XXXV) – Tales told by moonlight.
25. The Chaos of Eko (XII) – The energy of Lagos.
Majestic Tree Sprawling Roots Sunset Landscape Stock Photos ...
Majestic Tree Sprawling Roots Sunset Landscape Stock Photos ...
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Majestic Olive Tree Dominating the Sunset Landscape Painting ...
Majestic Olive Tree Dominating the Sunset Landscape Painting ...
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OODUA’S ECHO
An Original Collection of Fifty Sonnets
INTRODUCTION
This collection is a poetic journey through the soul of Yorubaland. Each sonnet is crafted in the Shakespearean form—fourteen lines of iambic pentameter—to house the rich, tonal complexity of Yoruba Culture. From the Sacred Groves of Osogbo to the bustling streets of Lagos, these poems celebrate a legacy that remains "as old as stars."
CANTO I: ANCESTRAL ORIGINS
I. The Forge of Ogun
Where iron meets the heat of ancient fire...
IV. The Crown of Idanre
High where the granite shoulders touch the mist...
VIII. The Descent at Ife
Before the world was firm beneath the feet, / A golden chain descended from the height...
XI. The Staff of Oranmiyan
A granite pillar stands in Ife's land, / Studded with iron nails of ancient smiths...
CANTO II: SACRED RHYTHMS
II. Gangan’s Echo
The talking drum begins its hollow call, / A language carved in wood and tensioned skin...
VI. The Thunder King
The heavens crack with Sango’s sudden ire, / A double-axe etched in the purple cloud...
X. The Arugba’s Path
The votary maid steps out in robes of white, / The brass-rimmed calabash upon her head...
XIV. The Crossroads of Esu
Between the "Yes" and "No" he takes his seat, / The trickster god who holds the secret key...
CANTO III: TRADITIONS & CRAFTS
V. The Indigo Vat
A woman leans above the earthen pot, / Her fingers stained with deep and midnight blue...
XXIV. The Weaver’s Loom
The shuttle flies across the narrow frame, / As Aso Oke grows beneath the hand...
XXX. The Twin’s Delight
The Ibeji are the children of the sun, / Double the joy and double the divine...
XXXIX. The Kola Nut’s Prayer
"He who brings kola, brings the gift of life," / The host declares and breaks the nut in four...
CANTO IV: THE MODERN VIBRATION
XII. The Chaos of Eko
Where salt spray meets the fume of yellow bus, / The island breathes a frantic, neon prayer...
XVII. The Juju Strings
The electric guitar begins a shimmering wail, / A liquid gold that flows through humid air...
XLVI. The Orisha Across the Sea
The wooden ships sailed out on salty tears... / But in the soul... the gods survived the cruelty of time.
L. The Eternal Land
Fifty songs for the land of bronze and sun... / The story of the race has just begun.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Adire: Traditional indigo-dyed textile.
Gangan: The iconic Yoruba Talking Drum.
Ibeji: The sacred spirit of twins.
Opun Ifa: The wooden divination tray used by priests.
SAMPLE ENTRY: SONNET I
THE FORGE OF OGUN
Where iron meets the heat of ancient fire,
The son of Sango dances on the blade.
No spirit of the wood shall ever tire
While Ogun’s path through forest green is made.
The palm wine flows to cool the burning throat,
As hammers strike a rhythm sharp and loud;
Upon the wind, the hunter’s praises float,
Beneath the gaze of hills wrapped in a shroud.
Oh, land of bronze and earth-toned majesty,
Where kings descend from lines of Oranmiyan,
Your stories bloom in deep mahogany,
As old as stars that lit the first dawn's span.
The anvil speaks what silver cannot say:
That strength is born in fire every day.
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
This collection was written to honor the Yoruba people, whose influence spans from the Osun-Osogbo Sacred Grove to the streets of Bahia and Havana. These sonnets utilize the traditional Shakespearean form to house the ancient rhythms of Yoruba Orature, proving
II. Gangan’s Echo
The talking drum begins its hollow call,
A language carved in wood and tensioned skin.
It speaks to every hut and palace wall,
Of where we end and where the gods begin.
From Ile-Ife, the cradle of the light,
To Ibadan, where rusty brown roofs spread,
The gangan pulse awakens through the night,
To wake the living and to honor dead.
A tapestry of indigo and gold,
The Adire tells a tale of hand and dye;
The secrets that the elders have not told
Are written in the vastness of the sky.
Oodua’s children, scattered far and wide,
Still feel the tug of Olokun’s deep tide.
III. The Sacred Grove
The Osun river winds through silent trees,
Where silver fish reflect the dappled sun.
The prayers of mothers drift upon the breeze,
For every life that has not yet begun.
The white-robed priestess bows before the stream,
Where brass and cooling water merge as one;
The forest is a living, breathing dream,
Before the frantic city is begun.
From Lagos' shore to Oyo’s dusty plain,
The Iroko stands a sentinel of grace,
Enduring through the sun and seasonal rain,
To guard the spirit of this holy place.
Though modern ways may mask the ancient face,
The heart of Yoruba keeps its steady pace.
High where the granite shoulders touch the mist,
The ancient hills of Idanre arise.
By cooling winds and golden sunlight kissed,
They guard the secrets of the southern skies.
Six hundred steps the weary traveler climbs
To reach the peak where silence holds its breath,
Away from bustling streets and modern crimes,
To where the spirit triumphs over death.
The Owa’s palace rests in weathered stone,
A testament to power carved in earth;
Here, time is measured by the wind alone,
In heights that saw the very nation’s birth.
The valley sleeps beneath a verdant veil,
While up above, the mountain tells its tale.
V. The Indigo Vat
A woman leans above the earthen pot,
Her fingers stained with deep and midnight blue.
The Adire patterns, tied in tightest knot,
Bring ancient symbols into vision new.
She draws the Eléko with a steady hand—
The comb, the bird, the crossroads, and the moon—
A visual proverb spread across the land,
To be a bride’s most celebrated boon.
From Abeokuta’s rocks, the dye is spun,
The scent of sulfur rising from the ground;
Under the steady heat of noon-day sun,
The beauty of the heritage is found.
Though cloth may fray as seasons turn to years,
The indigo outlasts a thousand tears.
VI. The Thunder King
The heavens crack with Sango’s sudden ire,
A double-axe etched in the purple cloud.
The sky is lit with streaks of jagged fire,
While thunder bellows, terrifying and loud.
The King of Koso does not speak in vain;
His justice strikes with swift and heavy force.
He brings the cleansing fury of the rain,
To keep the moral world upon its course.
With Oya at his side, the whirlwind's breath,
He dances on the edge of storm and light;
A power that defies the reach of death,
Arrayed in crimson, shimmering and bright.
Let liars tremble when the clouds turn gray,
For Sango’s truth will always find its way.
VII. The Market’s Song
Before the sun has cleared the forest rim,
The Iyaloja wakes to claim the day.
The morning mist is ghostly, white, and dim,
As baskets fill in colorful array.
A symphony of barter, shout, and jest,
Where pepper, yam, and palm oil find their price;
The marketplace is where the pulse is best,
A swirling world of labor and of spice.
From Oja-Oba’s gates to narrow lanes,
The commerce of a thousand years survives;
It flows through Yoruba blood and through the veins
Of those who build their cities and their lives.
Amidst the noise, a steady wisdom grows:
The river of the people always flows.
Shall I proceed with sonnets regarding the Oshun-Osogbo Festival or perhaps the legendary walls of Sungbo's Eredo?
AI can make mistakes, so double-check responses
IV. The Crown of Idanre
Here are four more original sonnets, moving into the sacred origins of the world and the monumental legacies of the Ijebu and Ife kingdoms.
VIII. The Descent at Ife
Before the world was firm beneath the feet,
A golden chain descended from the height.
Where sky and boundless water used to meet,
Oduduwa brought the first seeds of the light.
A handful of the earth, a five-toed bird,
To spread the soil across the shifting deep.
The word of Olodumare then was heard,
While Obatala lay in drunken sleep.
The sacred cock scratched out the holy ground,
Till Ile-Ife rose, the world’s true heart.
Where every royal lineage is bound,
And every ancient wisdom had its start.
The chain remains, though hidden from the eye,
The silver link between the earth and sky.
IX. Sungbo’s Eredo
Deep in the rainforest where shadows play,
The earth is carved in trenches wide and deep.
One hundred miles of ramparts stretch away,
Where Bilikisu Sungbo’s secrets sleep.
A childless widow, rich in gold and slaves,
Who built a wall to keep her name alive.
The mossy banks above the silent graves
Show how the works of mighty queens survive.
Some say she was the Sheba of the East,
Who tested Solomon with riddles bold.
Though centuries of jungle have increased,
The majesty of Eredo is told.
A mountain moved by hand and iron blade,
A monument the forest could not fade.
X. The Arugba’s Path
The votary maid steps out in robes of white,
The brass-rimmed calabash upon her head.
She carries all the prayers for sun and light,
And follows where the ancient hunters led.
Through Osogbo’s streets, the pressing thousands wait,
To see the virgin princess pass them by.
She bears the burden for the city's state,
Beneath the humid, graying August sky.
The Osun River waits with cooling breath,
To take the sacrifice the goddess craves.
A pact that triumphs over drought and death,
Renewed within the ripples of the waves.
"Ore Yeye Osun!" the people cry,
As life and water merge and multiply.
XI. The Staff of Oranmiyan
A granite pillar stands in Ife's land,
Studded with iron nails of ancient smiths.
The staff of Oranmiyan, tall and grand,
A stone-carved bridge between the men and myths.
The youngest son who founded Oyo’s throne,
And gave the Benin kings their royal line.
His strength is etched within this silent stone,
A warrior’s mark, both human and divine.
When enemies once gathered at the gate,
The people called his name across the air.
He rose from earth to challenge every fate,
And left his mighty sword embedded there.
Now time may weather every granite face,
But cannot shake the pillar of the race.
Would you like the next set to explore Yoruba proverbs and philosophical wisdom, or should we move toward the modern energy of cities like Lagos?
in the 19th Century.
High where the granite shoulders touch the mist,
The ancient hills of Idanre arise.
By cooling winds and golden sunlight kissed,
They guard the secrets of the southern skies.
Six hundred steps the weary traveler climbs
To reach the peak where silence holds its breath,
Away from bustling streets and modern crimes,
To where the spirit triumphs over death.
The Owa’s palace rests in weathered stone,
A testament to power carved in earth;
Here, time is measured by the wind alone,
In heights that saw the very nation’s birth.
The valley sleeps beneath a verdant veil,
While up above, the mountain tells its tale.
V. The Indigo Vat
A woman leans above the earthen pot,
Her fingers stained with deep and midnight blue.
The Adire patterns, tied in tightest knot,
Bring ancient symbols into vision new.
She draws the Eléko with a steady hand—
The comb, the bird, the crossroads, and the moon—
A visual proverb spread across the land,
To be a bride’s most celebrated boon.
From Abeokuta’s rocks, the dye is spun,
The scent of sulfur rising from the ground;
Under the steady heat of noon-day sun,
The beauty of the heritage is found.
Though cloth may fray as seasons turn to years,
The indigo outlasts a thousand tears.
VI. The Thunder King
The heavens crack with Sango’s sudden ire,
A double-axe etched in the purple cloud.
The sky is lit with streaks of jagged fire,
While thunder bellows, terrifying and loud.
The King of Koso does not speak in vain;
His justice strikes with swift and heavy force.
He brings the cleansing fury of the rain,
To keep the moral world upon its course.
With Oya at his side, the whirlwind's breath,
He dances on the edge of storm and light;
A power that defies the reach of death,
Arrayed in crimson, shimmering and bright.
Let liars tremble when the clouds turn gray,
For Sango’s truth will always find its way.
VII. The Market’s Song
Before the sun has cleared the forest rim,
The Iyaloja wakes to claim the day.
The morning mist is ghostly, white, and dim,
As baskets fill in colorful array.
A symphony of barter, shout, and jest,
Where pepper, yam, and palm oil find their price;
The marketplace is where the pulse is best,
A swirling world of labor and of spice.
From Oja-Oba’s gates to narrow lanes,
The commerce of a thousand years survives;
It flows through Yoruba blood and through the veins
Of those who build their cities and their lives.
Amidst the noise, a steady wisdom grows:
The river of the people always flows.
Shall I proceed with sonnets regarding the Oshun-Osogbo Festival or perhaps the legendary walls of Sungbo's Eredo?
AI can make mistakes, so double-check responses
IV. The Crown of Idanre
Here are four more original sonnets, moving into the sacred origins of the world and the monumental legacies of the Ijebu and Ife kingdoms.
VIII. The Descent at Ife
Before the world was firm beneath the feet,
A golden chain descended from the height.
Where sky and boundless water used to meet,
Oduduwa brought the first seeds of the light.
A handful of the earth, a five-toed bird,
To spread the soil across the shifting deep.
The word of Olodumare then was heard,
While Obatala lay in drunken sleep.
The sacred cock scratched out the holy ground,
Till Ile-Ife rose, the world’s true heart.
Where every royal lineage is bound,
And every ancient wisdom had its start.
The chain remains, though hidden from the eye,
The silver link between the earth and sky.
IX. Sungbo’s Eredo
Deep in the rainforest where shadows play,
The earth is carved in trenches wide and deep.
One hundred miles of ramparts stretch away,
Where Bilikisu Sungbo’s secrets sleep.
A childless widow, rich in gold and slaves,
Who built a wall to keep her name alive.
The mossy banks above the silent graves
Show how the works of mighty queens survive.
Some say she was the Sheba of the East,
Who tested Solomon with riddles bold.
Though centuries of jungle have increased,
The majesty of Eredo is told.
A mountain moved by hand and iron blade,
A monument the forest could not fade.
X. The Arugba’s Path
The votary maid steps out in robes of white,
The brass-rimmed calabash upon her head.
She carries all the prayers for sun and light,
And follows where the ancient hunters led.
Through Osogbo’s streets, the pressing thousands wait,
To see the virgin princess pass them by.
She bears the burden for the city's state,
Beneath the humid, graying August sky.
The Osun River waits with cooling breath,
To take the sacrifice the goddess craves.
A pact that triumphs over drought and death,
Renewed within the ripples of the waves.
"Ore Yeye Osun!" the people cry,
As life and water merge and multiply.
XI. The Staff of Oranmiyan
A granite pillar stands in Ife's land,
Studded with iron nails of ancient smiths.
The staff of Oranmiyan, tall and grand,
A stone-carved bridge between the men and myths.
The youngest son who founded Oyo’s throne,
And gave the Benin kings their royal line.
His strength is etched within this silent stone,
A warrior’s mark, both human and divine.
When enemies once gathered at the gate,
The people called his name across the air.
He rose from earth to challenge every fate,
And left his mighty sword embedded there.
Now time may weather every granite face,
But cannot shake the pillar of the race.
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