Kinsmen,
Let us bring ourselves together under the iroko tree.
There we shall (with our flaming eyes that have known no
Sleep all these past market weeks) alter the positions of the
Moon and stars.
There we shall rebuild our once formidable shrines,
Reshape the leaves of the iroko itself,
Strengthen their boughs and strip the branches of
Their protracted weakness,
Break every bridge that makes our one river two rivals,
Recount our past midnight tales and lore
And share them as heirloom to our children.