Baboon
By ljala
Laare.
Opomu, who teaches a dog how to hunt successfully; (2)
having mastered the technique of hunting, the dog feeds.
Opumo,
O baboon,
I greet you, possessor of hard-skinned swollen buttocks,
having a whip in each hand,
whom the hunter pursues and in the process
smears his tunic with earth.
Animal speckled all over his body,
like a patient cured of deadly smallpox;
wearer of a cap enhancing the face,
drummer in the forest.
He who covers his mouth with slab-like jaws;
Animal from whose hands the hunter has no received a wife,
yet before whom he prostrates himself.
Immediately I see him on the ground before him, I carefully hide.
While he was away from home,
an extra share of occiput was reserved for him;
on his arrival,
he started crying for an additional share for his mouth.
He who after raiding a farm returns to his perch,
his mouth hanging down like a Dahomean’s pocket.
Possessor of eyes shy like a bride’s,
seeing the farmers’ wives on their husbands’ farms.
Bulky fellow on the igba tree,
uncle to the red Patas Monkey.
Gentleman on the treetop,
whose fine figure intoxicates him like liquor.
Lagoodi, whose mouth is protuberant,
longish like a ginning rod,
whose jaws are like wooden spoons
and whose chest looks as if it had a wooden bar in it,
whose eyes are deep-set as he goes raiding farms,
even the farms of his relatives-in-law,
four hundred while going through the farm,
twelve hundred when returning to the bush.
He said it was a pity it was the farm of his relatives-in-law,
otherwise he would have eaten two hundred more.
He whom his mother gazed and gazed upon and burst out weeping,
declaring her child’s handsomeness would be the ruin of him.
Possessed of a hair-denuded posterior.
He whose claws are mischievously sharp,
he who stares defiantly at human beings,
whose female’s udders are never left in peace,
nursing mother who clings continually to the branches of trees.