Best Yoruba Poems


African Rhythm

I am....
An Ashanti warrior A Bantu dancer 
I am a Yoruba royal clothed in my Asooke 
Dancing Adowa and kpalogo to tunes from wulomei and masekela  

I am proud Masai 
Standing around manyattas, 
Jumping to melodies from the olaranyani
Eunoto is here and today I dance in front my peers in transition into a senior warrior 

Oh how sweet the African rhythms 
Imprudently lifting and soul soothing 
Sisala sebrew on Akan drums 
Highlife explorations unending on opus 1. 

I am an Ewe woman 
From the lineage of Nerfetiti 
And a great great ....grand daughter of Nandi 
My Gèle will never fall off 
My Dashiki will never fade out

I am a Fulani herdsman 
Wandering the Sahel plains of Africa 
Along with a fellow Malinke brother
Who speaks fluent igbo and today we revisit our roots in Nok 

I’m from Gao 
320 km east-southeast of Timbuktu. 
A descendant of Sonni Ali ,
Reciting the epic of Sundiata with intertwining soothing kora melodies from Kandia Kouyate 

Oh how dazzling the African landscape 
And glorious it's Heritage 
Such rekindling and Homeric folklores 
And a boundless diverse cultures 

I am the African dream 
mother's only son my father’s only daughter 
I'm the incantations of royal fetish and message behind the talking drum 

I am the African noble 
Free from identity torment 
I know of my glorious past and my colourful future 
My city will bleed no more 
Never again will i be a wanderer 

I know my culture 
And my alluring language 
Ah how powerful the African names
Araba Termytorphe and Ifedayo chant in unity 
Diallo Sissoko and Achiaa bestow serenity 

Mbali and Lamisi elegantly wore their kente 
Tonight we dance to tunes from the kete 
For Yaa Asantewaa never gave up the fight 
So we lift our hearts with emancipated minds 
To reach new heights ! O’ Nana Nyame,
May you forever guide us with your light .
© Kofi Amed  Create an image from this poem.

Yoruba Holy Communion

Young as just a week,
He was wrapped in a flannel.
His tender feet were shoeless -
Today was his appointed time;
 His feet must dialogue with gods.

The frontage was kind
To the pews and table.
The priest stood before the gods,
His grey hairs vouched for his age.
He opened the dishes one by each 
And accredited their celestial contents.

Then he lifted the dish of water
And splashed the water on the ground -
The gods must drink before the man-
He filled the baby's mouth with drops:
Today you have quenched the gods' thirst,
May the gods reward you  with comfort.
Drink the water of life and live.

....and the people said,'' aseee''*


He stepped the baby's feet on the ground
Where exactly he poured the water:
You have poured cold water on your path,
Step on every soil unburned, 
walk in the coolness of gods.

... aseee

Then the next and the next :
A bit of fish, a bit of rat;
These are what we eat to grow,
Today I fill your mouth with them,
Eat and grow in life.

...aseee.

... And the next three:
Salt, honey and sugar -
The sweeteners of life border no bitterness;
The gods feed you with sweeteners today,
Dwell in the sweetness of life.

....aseee.

And alligator pepper;
He dropped some seeds on the ground
And put a seed in the baby's mouth:
The day alligator pepper built its house,
It filled it with seeds;go with its potency
And fill your house with fruit of womb.

....aseee.

Then the red-oil -
He poured some on the ground
And fed the baby with drops:
Oil is the antidote to the hotness of pepper,
I cover you today with its potency;
Go and triumph upon every challenge.

...aseee.

Go and triumph upon every challenge,
Fill your house with fruit of womb,
Dwell in the sweetness of life,
Eat and grow in life,
Walk in the coolness of gods,
Drink the water of life and live.

Aseee.



aseee* means 'so be it''

Yoruba Incantation Against the Vampires

YORUBA INCANTATION AGAINST THE VAMPIRES.


Oh you Titans of the other world
Oh you the legend of the unseen
I rise my voice up on to you today
Hear me and accept my supplication;
Attention rules the life of house mouse,
When the loving mother hears her baby crying,
Does she not attend to it? Attend to me today.

You that clad on thousand garments
Yet none touches the ground;
Whose teeth make no noise,
You that eat child and crush its bone;
From the top you eat the bowl,
From the liver you devour the guts,
From the bottom you savour the bile ;
You promised that whosoever knows you
Him you shall spare, I know you,
Spare me, spare my children.

When you were learning how to fly,
On my branches you learned;
From my fruits you ate, so you vowed :
I shall spare you and spare yours; 
Remember this in your days of anger,
Spare me, spare my children.

Three things you do not eat :
You do not eat Sparrows,
You do not eat beads,
You do not eat from  ‘‘Obo trees’’;
I have Sparrows in my house,
Visit me not; I have beads in my waist,
Lay not your hand on me;
In my reservoir is bark of Obo tree,
Drink not from my pot;
Spare me, spare my children.

Hear this and spare me,
Hear this and spare my households;
We can’t know vampire’s name
And still become its prey.


Yoruba

Brobdingnagian people of wealth
Possessing sinewy warriors of health
Brawny nature makes empires shiver
City wall stronger more than ever. 

The people of great black magic
Though they are meek
Gallant like the pride of barbados
They brought glory to us. 

Their food, culture, tradition and music
Known all over the world like Sikh
Great Empire Dynasties of Oyo, Ibadan, Ife, Owu and Ogbomoso. 

Source of great writers to Nigeria
Whose work are publish around the world in various media
Salute to the shrewd people
Of the South-West Pole

Aduke Onidiri

I love it when you laugh and smile, 
   At the same time, in my
         delight I get sad. 
Because I wish I could be the only 
man while other men are animals 
  Àdùk?´, you're  so beautiful
        with those marks. 
Don't be bothered about the city girls, 
you got tribal marks not devil marks. 

When you laugh I see a rihanna, 
When you now decide to keep it
   low I see a Michele Obama. 
Àdùk?´ Onídìrí, follow me to the city, 
I'll open a fashion hub for you
     at the riverside of lekki. 
  ?ni bíi ?kàn mi, please help
       patch my broken ribs. 

         Àdùk?´  èmi ?w?n
 When we've a daughter, we'll
 name her Ar?`wà èkó (Lagos)
  With your hands on her hair,  
beautifulness will be a course
          in the university.  
            Àdùk?´, dùk?´, 
Shake those beads on your waist
   for me and let's dance to Àpàlà 
         like sány?`rì ?`k?là.

Poet 
Olajire Damilola Muyideen 
      (SmilingPen) 
Instagram | @smiling_pen
Copyright Owner
Olajire Damilola Muyideen

Yoruba Proverb

Yoruba proverb 
An old saying 
Words of the fathers of fathers 
Incentive of the wise spring of ancestral vales 
The word is just so original like a laconic phrase 
Expressing a basic truth 


It find lost words
What an helpful morpheme
An obscure saying, but
So rare in the mouth of the youths
For they should be acquainted to this colloquial, for that 
Old is coming for them soon.


Olubikin

You were the first 
To speak to herbs
And make the ailing cured.
The greatest healer known to all
Like ripples, your fame 
Was far spread.

Olubikin! Olubikin!
Heed the elders' call—
Bitter fruits are not sought by bats.
For honey— bees are hunt.
Flamboyant plumage 
Will attract hawks.
Success is a curse.

Premium Member Daughters of Quiet Dominion

Yoruba are the roots of many rising things,
A people where the first light often springs.
Where culture is crafted, where ideas ignite,
Where Nigeria finds her voice, her face, her sight.
Yorubaland hub of thought and creation,
A cradle of craft, a forge of innovation.
Yet beneath this brilliance, steady and strong,
Are women whose praises have lingered too long.
They stirred the pot, yet shaped a nation,
Turned simple seeds to sustenance and sensation.
Amala smooth, Ewedu’s stream,
Egusi rich like a woven dream.
Akara rising, golden and bright,
Moi moi wrapped, soft with delight.
Jollof rice glowing, seasoned with flame,
Iyan beaten with rhythm and name.
From humble hands came heritage deep,
Flavors that generations keep.
Measured not by tools, but by knowing,
A quiet art of giving and growing.
Cloth became culture beneath their art,
Patterns that whisper, fabrics that speak.
Dyed in wisdom, stitched with pride,
Histories hidden in every tide.
They did not wait to be seen or heard,
They moved in silence, yet shaped the world.
Where doors were closed, they carved a way,
Turning night into a rising day.
From healing hands to halls of might,
From pens that write to screens that light,
They told the stories, they framed the scenes,
They built the bridges behind the dreams.
From stages small to global gaze,
They shaped the screen in countless ways.
Stories rooted in soil and soul,
Now travel far, now make us whole.
In distant lands, their strength expands,
Across new skies, on foreign sands.
In banks, in labs, in coded streams,
They carry forth enduring dreams.
They rise, they lead, yet still remain,
Bound to their roots through loss and gain.
They shape the now, they guard the old,
Their worth is vast, their story untold.
For while the world applauds the flame,
It seldom speaks the hidden name.
Yet truth remains, both firm and clear 
Their silent strength has brought us here.
Yorubaland shines, a radiant flame,
But women have kindled that enduring name.
They are the force, the unseen hand,
The quiet power that built the land.

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