Zerma Ibrahim, son of a princess
The Sultan’s support (firm as) a bowl made of fan palm trunk
His tribe the Tura, a son of Margi
Zerma, the warrior
A quiver for a hundred arrows
A hawk, a brave warrior
Alone he is equal to a thousand men,
he who can run hither and thither like a puppy
His patience like that of a male pelican
He is like boneless flesh, like brains
He is the owner of Buntigum Kadasha
And of Wawum and the town of Damasha
His eye (is to be feared as) a elephant hunter’s spear
His eyelashes are arrows
Support of a Sultan; if his eye becomes red he is preparing to fight
His Gursulu of the North
Who owns a tethering rope of gold
He is like a horse led behind the Sultan, its trappings ready on its back,
he too carries a Sultan on his back
Like a large spear: in his hand he carries an oil bottle
Zerma Ibrahim, a despoiler who lives in the Sultan’s house
So of Zerma Dunama whose mother was a Sultan’s granddaughter
whose home was N’gasargamu
Support of a Sultan, yours the country called Gabana
Sugu, whose mother was a princess and who is happy therefore
You who sit in the shade of an acacia tree on a sandy mound,
you are a faithful follower of your chief
Faithful as a dog to its master
(If a man does any of the things) which lie between frowning
on one to being responsible for one’s death,
that is hate, Ibram Mairammi
(If a man gives one a present of anything) from a ‘mudu’
of corn to a fine horse, that is favour
One thread of truth in a shuttle will weave
a hundred threads of lies, Ibram Mairammi
Vomiting one’s liver cures the most severe biliousness, Ibram Mairammi
The hatching of an egg is unpleasant for the shell, Ibram Mairammi
Do not match yourself against Providence
God is all powerful: He prevents the eye from seeing the eyelashes (near it)
Eggs become lice
The small man becomes the great one, Ibram Mairammi
Stick to the truth, Ibram Mairammi
Truth is like the light of dawn, Sugu Mairammi
Untruthfulness is like the darkness at sunset, Ibram Mairammi
The “kagura” bird is God’s caller to prayer
The crested crane is the blower of the ‘fum-fum’ of the birds
You are not any relation of mine, nor my own flesh and blood,
it is only so long as I am happy that I shall stay in your town