Though Orunmila’s proxy be entranced,
And Sango himself, flippantly lose his hat
At titillating pleasures by you summoned
And arms that fearsome gods enchant.

Though Efik princesses plunge to despair,
At skills so sublime, they cannot match.
And Minnerva’s daintiness by yours is eclipsed
Yet I, Akpovo, you shall not catch.

For as constant as the Northern Star I shine,
Unshaken by the lure of comely arms.
If all the extant gods prophesy, they lie
My resolve is stronger than any charm.

My soul you shall not titillate,
I know it shall only irritate.