Fubara Benstowe - Iria-Bibite

Singing and performing are the gears
That ignites the fire of our unionism,
Sounds of music sprouting from back stage, we flow,
Our hearts filled with extreme ecstasies
And our mouths sing praises to our faith.
Our dance steps are the symbols of pure uniqueness
and apparels like robes from heavenly trees.

Now beat the drums that makes the trees to dance,
strike the sticks that makes our joy to prance,
Now beat atamgba, beat ekere, beat alili and ngu,
Set the ceremonies of the celebrant going,
Let earth witness our undiluted tradition,
But let the rain wait a little while
And the sun to the rhythm of our wishes,
Cos our feet are itching, ready to dance
To the rhythm of our ancestral beats,
The rolling beats of iria bibite,
And to all that ignites the fire of our bliss.

O! these days are theirs, once forever,
Like death and birth, no recap,
Spinning from generations to generations
Without a conventional recess,
An every woman's pride,
An every woman's day,
When dances are scattered at our atmosphere
Like palm leaves entangled with ghastly winds,
When the beauty of our forklore
Tingles earth's fantancies,
But all must answer some day,
Either now or later,
Iria bibite, celebration of womanhood,
Pride of my people.

Fubara Benstowe

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/iria-bibite/