The fantastic fairy tale: "Midsummer Nights Dream" as told by Shakespeare
reminds me "Bet Ghiorgis," the famous resort site located on
Asmara-Massawa road. Like that Oberon's and Titania's dwelling place, it was so
jungle, so amorous, so fearful by night. In order to ward off the imagined little
spirits at night fall, I used to sing as the following:-
If you meet a fairy
Don't run away
They would not hurt you
But they only want to play.
It is the place where I grew up like those dreamy and studious (shemdida)
kids of the golden sixties, the most inspiring decade that produced a
generation of young writers, artists, musicians, spirituals, comedians,
sportsmen and revolutionaries who were driving forces in the Eritrean liberation
movements.
It is a long story indeed!
As for now, let me share with you one of my favorite poems composed the
day I joined Dehai. That was in the year of 1995. I hope the younger
generation Eritreans as well as the older ones would enjoy reading it. It is time
to reflect as the year 2014 is close to an end. In the meantime, I wish you
a happy Christmas and a peaceful new year.
"Bet-Ghiorgis"
Bet-Ghiorgis.....
Once in this jungle
And a resort site
Where the young lovers
Spend their silent nights
While listening
To romantic melodies
Without disturbance
By the howl
Of passing dogs
Amid a dim light
Of the car
That one could see
>From afar....
In wonder....
As the couples kissing
And soothing each other
By saying:-
" Non piangi...oh bella
E' solo sta sera
Cinque minuti ancora!"
>From down to nightfall
Sitting and studying
Under the very tall tree
Whose thick leaves
Like a parasol
Overshadowed me.
The stingy ants
Under my lap
Waking me up
After a short nap.
It is hard to tell
The chameleon around
Unless it opens
The fearful mouth.
So is the grasshopper
Which you cannot see
In your naked eyes
Before it abruptly flies.
The colorful humming bird
Like a rainbow in the sky
Whose sharp beak
as long as a straw
Smacking and sacking
A sweet juice
>From the buds
Of blooming flowers.
At the top
In a vigil
Full of shrill
The crow spies
Under watchful eyes.
But the dummy owl
Round as a bowl
With its piercing eyes
Neither stirs nor flies,
The gray pigeon in pair
Flying together
Before confining to their nest
While hatching their eggs.
The prudent and lonely parrot
Of color,,,,
Green and red
Flies quickly
At the sudden sight
Of sly steps.
For all these...
This bushy...
Is still without king
Of course, the eagle
Which lives on meat.
But now I am sad
To see Bet-Ghiorgis
The cleared jungle
And quite plane
As Japanese Hiroshima
And Nagasaki.
Let us restore it anew
By planting beautiful trees
So that our migrated birds
Could have a place to live
Once they are returned
To their homeland
In Peace!!!