Ajibola Oluwafidipo je onkotan Yoruba, ife ti o ni si ede abinibi re ni o se iwuri fun lati se akosile ewi "Nightfall In Soweto" yii ni ede Yoruba
Oorun wo ni Soweto
Oru se wa bi aisan ti njani laya
ti a si je ara to ya gaga run
a si baje koja atunse
Owo apaniyan
farapamo ninu ojiji
o si gba ida mu
o si ja alailagbara eniyan lule
Emi gan ni eni ti a npon loju
emi ni eni naa ti a dunbu
ni alaale ni opopona
eru si bo okan mi mole
mo npakaka ninu okan iberu mi
ninu aini iranlowo ni mo nkerora
Akoni ti di ojo
eniyan ti di odaju bi eranko igbe
eniyan ti di eni ti a lu bole
Emi gan ni eni naa ti a lu bole
mo dabi oke nla ti a fo tutu
lati owo eranko ajegunjeran
ti a tu sile loru oganjo
lati inu ago iku re
Nibo ni aabo mi wa
nibo ni mo le sinmi lailewu
ki se ninu ahere mi ile isana eleta
nibiti mo foripamo si nitori ooru dudu
Iberu bojo bami nitori giri giri ESE
mo gbon rigbo riye bi o to nkanleku lemo lemo
"silekun" o ki gbe bi aja digbolugi
o nponu poungbe fun eje mi
Oru dudu! oru dudu!
o je ota emi mi
e se ti iwo ki seda nkan?
e se ti ki nse ojumo?
ojumo titi lai?
Nightfall In Soweto
Nightfall comes like
a dreaded disease
seeping through the pores
of a healthy body
and ravaging it beyond repair
A murderer’s hand,
lurking in the shadows,
clasping the dagger,
strikes down the helpless victim.
I am the victim.
I am slaughtered
every night in the streets.
I am cornered by the fear
gnawing at my timid heart;
in my helplessness I languish.
Man has ceased to be man
Man has become beast
Man has become prey.
I am the prey;
I am the quarry to be run down
by the marauding beast
let loose by cruel nightfall
from his cage of death.
Where is my refuge?
Where am I safe?
Not in my matchbox house
Where I barricade myself against nightfall.
I tremble at his crunching footsteps,
I quake at his deafening knock at the door.
“Open up!” he barks like a rabid dog
thirsty for my blood.
Nightfall! Nightfall!
You are my mortal enemy.
But why were you ever created?
Why can’t it be daytime?
Daytime forever more?
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