Who doesn't know hunger walks on the street?
Yet, Fáríolódó eats than a glutton.
The farm is a hell of heap, he can't work
yet he eats like a sentenced prisoner.
Who doesn't know hunger 's a miracle?
Yet, Fáríolódó feels none, not even
the one Lazarus once felt. He has a
big head, an oily head shin'ng as the sun.
Fáríolódó is not a son, not yet
a bastard. For, he has hands that can't work
and he has brain that he can't use — yet he
greases it with the oil waste of stolen
Akara. Let's all hail Fáríolódó
Paríolódó, the one that can swallow
the mortar and pestle, but please tell him
that October won't rain and March reaps not.
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Fáríolódó means someone whose head is always well cut, no hair at all.
Paríolódó means someone who eats anything (everything) at anywhere.