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From: hbokure@aol.com
Date: Tue May 18 2010 - 07:34:12 EDT
Asmara the Beautiful
After a quarter of century
Packing my things
For a long journey
Across the Atlantic
And the Great Seas.
As the plane flew
Low and low....
I could see
The beautiful Asmara below
In a dim light..........
Under the stellar night
Of Asmara skies
That I dreamed once to fly
While playing with my skinny kite.
The plane flew low
Till we got lost
From the lonely sky
Where no one bid us
Bye and bye......
With happy or sad eyes.
The plane touched the ground
The trembled souls clapped
For enjoying the safe trip
After these fearful nights
Of restless sleep.......
As I stepped ....
Down, down, down
The plane stairs
I breathed the fresh air
Of Asmara, the beautiful
With out breaking joy and smile
After these dreamy years in exile.
My pair of feet trod
On the Eritrean soil
Like that of space man
Who landed and walked on the moon
With awkward gait
But not only that
Yes, like him
I picked up
Two pieces of basalt pebbles
Of color black
That I dearly hugged
I could not believe ha.....
When I arrived the first time
In Asmara
The garden city
Oh, mine ... you see....
Where I lived half of my life
After living in alien lands
For so long.......
But the dream fulfilled
No more exilic life
No more.....
No more....
No more!
Haile Bokure