With the gaint's gaits wobbling, <br />tilting till he falls. <br />Sound the horn, <br />to announce the fall of an Iroko. <br />And the cabarets shall open no more, <br />and the clarets shall flow no more, <br />for the Iroko is no more.<br /><br />Temitope Adebowale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chinua-achebe/
