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• Fibre Song •

I'm fibre, made by the Owner of hands
given to quack and professional tailors,
to measure,rule, chalk or pen me, and cut with razor or scissors,
to sew me with machine.

Different needle design countless holes that pierce my pile,
and left "o tèle àrá" to stitch inside of me.

Women and men, fashion names for me
when they look at the big album of styles and designs.
Some call me styles like Àgbádá, Bùbá, Aso óké,
and some classic local styles I cannot mention.

Oh, my Creator, why have I come to this nation?
where needle and thread mêlée against me.
Am I not meant to cover shames of some people?
Why do toys and animals wear me?
"And now, I'm crazy in the body of men!"

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Comments

This metaphor is so strong! I read this as a powerful poem about misuse and degradation. I am sorry I don't have the cultural knowledge to fully appreciate it but want to learn more. The only line that really doesn't work for me is: "and some classic local styles I cannot mention." I don't understand it.

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