ይድረስ ለወንድሜ ለማላውቅህ

(ባለቅኔ ሎሬት ፀጋዬ ገብረ መድኅን)

ይድረስ ላንተ ለማላውቅህ
ለወንድሜ ሩቅ ለማልፍህ
ለምታውቀኝ-ለማላውቅህ፥ ለምታየኝ-ለማላይህ. . .
ማነህ ባክህ?
ሳትወደኝም ሳታምነኝም፥ አጢነህ ለምትፈራኝ
ስናገርህ አጠንቅረህ፥ አተኩረህ ለምትሰማኝ….
ይድረስ ለክቡር ወንድሜ፥ ለአረህ ዟሪው ለገታሩ
ለሩቅ ገጠሬ ነባሩ
ለማላውቅህ ለዳር ዳሩ፥….
ማነህ


ከሩቅ የምታስተውለኝ
የማልለይህ-የምትለየኝ
ተግተህ የምትገምተኝ፥ ያላየኸኝ አስመስለህ
አቀርቅረህ ተግ ብለህ
ባንደበትህ የእርግማን መርዝ፥ በልብህ ትእዝብት ቋጥረህ…
የፀጥታው የዋሻው ሱቅ
ማነህ አንተ የቅርቤ-ሩቅ
ማነህ….
ከረን ነህ መለሎ ብሌን
ከአሰብ ወደብ እስከ ስሜን
ስትሳብ ስትሰበሰብ
ሽንጠ ሰንበሌጠ-መርገብ
ከኡመ-ራ ነህ ከመረብ
አኑአክ ወይስ ገለብ
ከዘር ተገፍተህ ተሰደህ
በሐሩር ሰደድ ተጥለህ
በንዳድ መቀመቅ ታጥረህ
በእልቂት አፋፍ ፈፋ ያለህ
ማነህ
‘አጋው’ ነህ ወይስ ሺናሻ
ቅማንቴ ነህ ወይ ፈላሻ
ስምህ የሆነብን ግርሻ፥
ግራ ጐንደር ነህ መተከል
ባላዋቂ የምላስ ቅርስ፥ የዘር ንፍገት ስትቀበል
ያለዕዳህ ስምህ ሲበከል
እምትችል እምትቀበል፥ እማትሞት እማትነቀል
ማነህ
ቆለኛ ሸክላ ሠሪ ነህ
ያገር ዕድል ያገለለህ።
ለጥበብህ እንደመካስ
በደባትር ትንታግ ምላስ
ዘለዓለም ልብህ የሚላስ
ማነህ
ገባር ነህ የሙክት ሳቢ
እረኛ ነህ የከብት አርቢ
አራሽ ነህ ያገር ቀላቢ
አማል ነህ የግመል ሳቢ….
ባክህ ማነህ ወንድምዬ፥ አንድም ቀን የማንወያይ
በውል፥ በጣይ፥ ባደባባይ
በፎቶ ግራፍ ዓይን እንጂ፥ ዓይን ለዓይን የማንተያይ
እኔ ለወሬ አንተን መሳይ፥ አንተ ለጭንቅ እኔን መሳይ።
ማነህ እኮ የማላውቅህ
ማዶ ለማዶ ሩቅ ለሩቅ፥ በመኪና ዓይን የማይህ
የማትቀርበኝ የማልቀርብህ
ጠረንክን የምጠየፍህ
በጋዜጣ በመጽሔት፥ ወሬህን የምተርክህ
ሥዕልክን ፎቶግራፍክን፥ ላገር ጎብኚ የምሸጥህ፥
ማነህ አንተ ወንድምዬ፥ የማላውቅህ የምታውቀኝ
ሶዶሬ ማዶ እምታልፈኝ
በዝምታህ የምትከሰኝ
ባይንህ ጦር የምትገሥፀኝ
የሆድክን የማልጠይቅህ፥ የሆድክን የማተነግረኝ፥
ማነህ
ቦረን ነህ አባ ጋናሌ
የኛዻ ጠር አባ ጣሌ
ወይ ‘ሳፋር’ ንጥረ ሶማሌ፥
ከረን ነህ ወይስ ዳንካሌ
አፋር ነህ አባ ቱማታ
ማታሐራ ወይ ከምባታ
ወይስ ኩናማ አባ ዱታ፥
ማነህ ጐበዝ ማነህ አያ
ኢማኑ ነህ አባ ራያ
ወይስ ኢቱ አባ ሎቲ
የአዳል ሞአ የአዳል ሞቲ፥
እኮ ማነህ ሩቅ ያለኸው
ማንነትክን የማላውቀው
እማልሰማ እማልጠይቅህ
እማትነግረኝ እማላውቅህ፥
ማነህ ጐበዝ ላስተውልህ፥ አተኩረህ ጭጭ እምትል
እማትጣጠፍ ቅምጥል
መሃል አገር ያልሸተተህ
ባሻገር ዙር ድንበር ያለህ
የእህል ደላላ እሚበላህ
ባለሚዛን እሚያዋካህ፥
ማነህ
የዝምታ መደብር ነህ?….
እኮ ማነህ ስምህ ማነው
የዘር ግንድህ የሰየመው
ተበጥሶ ያልተቀጠለው
ሥርህ ማነው?….
በልቦናህ የምታማኝ
ታዝበህ የምትሰማኝ
ባትወደኝም ባታምነኝም፥ አጢነህ የምትፈራኝ
ማክበር እንጂ እማታስጠጋኝ፥
ማንነትክን ምንነትንክን፥ ላልሰማህ የምጠይቅህ
ለጉልበት ለላብህ በቀር፥ ላንተነትህ የማልቀርብህ
ከዓይነ-ጥላዬ እምትሸሸኝ፥ ከዓይነ-ጥላህ እማልርቅህ
ላፌ እንጂ ለልቦናዬ፥ የማትመስለኝ የማልመስልህ
ከመንፈሴ እምገልልህ
ከሕሊናዬ እማሸሽህ
ቦታህን የማትረሳ፥ ቦታህን የማስታውስህ….
ማነህ
ይድረስ ለክቡር ወንድሜ፥ ሕመምከን ለማታዋየኝ
በጸጥታህ ለምትወቅሰኝ
ጐፈሬህን እንደአባትህ፥ እንደሞያህ አጐፍረህ
በወለባ አንቆጥቁጠህ
ሎቲ አጥልቀህ ጦር አንግበህ
በመኪና እግር እማልፍህ
የማትጠራኝ የማላውቅህ፥
ማነህ
በየቱሪስቱ ካርድ ላይ
ከቦህ ሰማያዊ ሰማይ
አተኩረህ የምትታይ
ውሸትክን ፈጠህ ሳቅሁ ባይ፥
እንደቴክኖክራሲ አግቦ
ዙሪያህ በሀሰት ጌጥ ታጅቦ
እፎይታ ያቀፈህ መስለህ
ትእዝብት በዓይንህ ጦር አዝለህ
ርቀህ ተቀብረህ ሰንብተህ
የቱሪስት ካርድ የሳበህ
አንተ ማነህ?
እኮ ማነህ ወንድምዬ፥ ደራሲ የሚቀኝብህ
ሠዓሊ የሚነድፍብህ
ቀሲስ የሚቀሰስብህ
የቱሪስት የጋዜጠኛ፥ ካሜራ እሚጋበዝብህ
የሚተች የሚተረጉም፥ የሚነድፍህ የማንም እጅ
የማነህ ደም የማነህ ቅጅ?….
አንተ የማማ ኢትዮዽያ ልጅ
እኔማ ሆኜብህ ፈረንጅ
አሳብ ለአሳብ ለተጣጣን
ምን አጣላን ማን አጣላን
ማን እንዳንወያይ ገራን
እንደባቢሎን ኬላ ግንብ፥ ለመተላለፍ የቀባን
አንተን የዘልማድ ዘላን፥ እኔን የመኪና ዘላን
እንድንሆን የገፋፋን?
ማነው ምንድነው ወንድሜ፥ ሆድ ለሆድ የሚያናክሰን
ሳንርቅ የሚያራርቀን፥ ሳናኮርፍ የሚያኳርፈን!….
ይድረስ ለክቡር ወንድሜ፥ ለምትሳብ ናዳ ጥጉን
ፈፋ ዙሪያ ሸንተረሩን
ሸለቆውን ፈረፈሩን
ዳር ድንበሩን ሩቁን-ሩቁን፥
ከዘር ተገፍተህ ተሰደህ
በሐሩር ሰደድ ተጥለህ
በንዳድ መቀመቅ ታጥረህ
በእልእቂት አፋፍ ፈፋ ላለህ….
እኛ መሀል ለሌለኸው
ታሪክህ ለተሸፈነው
ሁሉን ከሩቅ አብሰልስለህ፥ አጠንቅረህ ለምታየው….
ይድረስ ለክቡር ወንድሜ፥ ለምታየኝ ለማላይህ
ለምታውቀኝ ለማላውቅህ
ማነህ ባክህ….
ማነህ

ባለቅኔ ሎሬት ፀጋዬ ገብረ መድኅን(እሳት ወይ አበባ)

(ለበጌምድር ወይጦ ባላገር – (1963፲፱፻፷፫ – ደባርቅ)

ወንድ ብቻውን ነው እሚያለቅስ

   ጸጋዬ ገብረ መድኅን
ከወዳጅ ከዘመድ ርቆ
አንጀቱን በአንጀቱ ታጥቆ      
ተሸሽጎ ተገልሎ፥ ተሸማቆ ተሸምቆ
ከቤተ-ሰው ተደብቆ
መሽቶ፥ የማታ ማታ ነው፥ ሌት ነው የወንድ ልጅ እንባው
ብቻውን ነው የሚፈታው፡፡ . . .
ብቻውን ነው የሚረታው፡፡ . . .
ችሎ፥ ውጦ፥ ተጨብጦ፥ ተማምጦ ተጣጥሮ
በሲቃ ግት ተወጥሮ
እንደደመና ተቋጥሮ
እውስጥ አንጀቱ ተቀብሮ . . .
መሽቶ፥ ረፍዶ፥ ጀምበር ጠልቆ
የጨለማ ድባብ ወድቆ
በእንቅልፍ ጥላ ሲከበብ፥ በዝምታ ሲዋጥ አገር
ፍጡር ሁሉ ተስለምልሞ፥ ብቸኝነት ብቻ ሲቀር . . .

የኋላ የኋላ፥ ማታ
ምድር አገሩ በእፎይታ
ዓይኑን በእንቅልፍ ሲያስፈታ
ሁሉ በእረፍት ዓለም ርቆ፥ ብቸኝነት ብቻ ሲቀርብ
ያኔ ነው ወንድ ዓይኑ የሚረጥብ
የብቻ፥ እንባ ወዙ እሚነጥብ፡፡
ብቻውን ነው፥ ብቻውን ነው . . .
የእንባ ጭለማ ለብሶ ነው
ወንድ ልጅ ወዙ እሚነጥበው፡፡
ዕጣውን ለብቻው ቆርሶ
ብቻውን ሰቀቀን ጐርሶ
ብቻውን ጭለማ ለብሶ
ገበናውን ሣግ ሸፍኖ
ክብሩን በሰቆቃ አፍኖ
ሌሊት፥ የማታ ማታ ነው
ሕቅ እንቁን እሚነጥበው
ኤሎሄውን እሚረግፈው . . .
ከዓይኑ ብሌን ጣር ተመጦ
ከአንጀቱ ሲቃ ተቆርጦ
ደም አልሞ ፍም አምጦ
ከአፅመ-ወዙ እቶን ተፈልጦ
ከአንጀቱ ሲቃ ቆርጦ
ደም አልሞ ፍም አምጦ
ከአፅሙ ወዙ እቶን ተፈልጦ
እንደጠፍር-ብራቅ እምብርት
እንደእሳተ ገሞራ ግት
‘ርቅ ነው ወንድ ልጅ እንባው
ደም ነው፥ ፍም ነው እሚያነባው፤
ንጥረ ሕዋስ ነው ሰቆቃው
ረቂቅ ነው ምሥጢር ነው ጣሩ፥__ብቻውን ነው የሚፈታው፥
ብቻውን ነው የሚረታው፡፡
ችሎ፥ ውጦ፥ ተጨብጦ፥ ሰቀቀኑን በሆዱ አጥሮ
በአንጀቱ ገበና ቀብሮ
ውሎ ጭጭ እፍን ብሎ፥ እንደደመና ተቋጥሮ
ጣሩን ውጦ ተጣጥሮ
በሲቃ ግት ተሰትሮ፥ . . .
ከወዳጅ ከዘመድ ርቆ
ከቤተ-ሰው ተደብቆ
አንጀቱን በአንጀቱ ታጥቆ፥
ተሸሽጎ ተከናንቦ፥ ተሸማቆ ተሸምቆ . . .
የብቻ ብቸኝነቱ፥ የጭለማ ልብሱ እስኪደርስ
በዓይን አዋጅ ሃሞቱ እንዳይረክስ
ቅስሙ በገበያ እንዳይፈስ
ተገልሎ በእኩለ-ሌት፥ ወንድ ብቻውን ነው እሚያለቅስ፡፡
ጸጋዬ ገብረ መድኅን
እሳት ወይ አበባ
            ለዘውዴ ሸዋሞልቶት – (፲፱፻፶፭ – አምቦ – ኮልፌ)

እግር እንይ! (ሎሬት ጸጋዬ ገብረመድኅን)

poem in pdf
እግር እንይ!
(ሎሬት ጸጋዬ ገብረመድኅን)
አርቀን ማስተዋል ማለት፣ የኛን ሥልጣኔ ድልድይ
እግር ማየት ነው ብለዋል፣ እስቲ እንግዲህ እግር እንይ!
            ያባቶችህ ያይን ድንበር፣ ከተረከዘ ሎሚ ሳያልፍ
            አንተ ግን ጆቢራው-ዘራፍ
ጠፍር አይወስንህ ጉብል
ጥሎ በዘመንህ ዕድል
ዓይንህ ባት አልፎ እንዲዋልል፤
ቴህ ወዲያ ጀግንነት የለ፣ ተዚህ የከረረ ግዳጅ
ባደባባይ የዱር ገደል፣ ስትናደፍ የእግር አዋጅ
ሌሊቱን በየሌት- ‘ግለብ’፣ ቀኑን ጭምር በጠራራ

ሲነጋ እንደጧት ጆቢራ
በከተማህ ስታቅራራ
በዕድሜህ መንከራተት ሥራ፣
ካንዱ ቢሮ ሌላው ቢሮ፣ አቦል በረካውን ብለህ
ያገሩን ወሬ ተንትነህ
ተጨቃጭቀህ ተለፋልፈህ
አመሳጥረህ አቆላልፈህ፣ የዚያን ጉዳይ ከዚህ ጉዳይ
ዘጋግነህ በቡና ምገህ፣ አምተህ ደክመህ ስትለያይ፣
በዚህ ብቻ ሳታስቀረው፣ ደሞ አዲሱን የአገር ጠባይ
ከልማድ የቡና ሱስ ጋር፣ የዘመኑን ሳትለያይ
እስቲ ደሞ አራዳ ወጥተህ፣ በከተማው አደባባይ
ያንዷን ካንዷ ዳሌና ባት፣ እግሯን ከእግር ጋር አስተያይ!
ደርቶልህ ያገር ልጅ ቅልጥም
ዳሌው ባቷ እስኪፈረጥም
እየናረ እስኪያስገመግም
አንተ አድፍጠህ ከኋላዋ፣ በዓይንህ ሣግ ስታነፈንፍ
ያቺን ልክፍ ያቺን ንድፍ
እያረክ ስታሾልቅ፣ አንዷ ፈርታ አንዷ ስታፈጥ
ተጠግታህ ባቷ ሲያገምጥ
“ዘራፍ” ቀርቶ ቀልብህም “ውይ!”
እያለ ወኔህ እግር ይይ!
“በሠየጠኑትማ ዘንድ
አንዱም የባላንጣ ዘዴ፣ የባዕዳን ሥውር መንገድ
ዘመናጥ ጦር መሣሪያ ነው፣ ታዳጊ አገር ለማንጋደድ
እምነቱን ለማወናበድ
ያንድን ትውልድ የሕልም አቅጣጫ
ወደፊት ሳይሆን ወደታች፣ አመንምኖ ማቀጨጫ!”
ቢልህ ፈጥጦ በግልምጫ
ለኅሊናው ማጋለጫ
ናቀው እርግፍ አርገህ ተወው፣ ቴህ ቢጤው ጋር አትንጫጫ፡፡
ሠልጥነን ንቀን አልፈነው፣ የይሉኝታን መቀመጫ
የኛ ዓይን የእግር ነው እንጂ፣ በቅቶት ኅሊና መግለጫ፡፡
እርቀን ማስተዋል ማለት፣ የኛን ሥልጣኔ ድልድይ
እግር ማየት ነው ብለናል፣ አሜን በቃን እግር እንይ!
                               (ሎሬት ጸጋዬ ገብረመድኅን)
    ‘ለእግረተኞች’ – (፲፱፻፷፫ – ‘ፒያሳ’)
                                    እሳት ወይ አበባ

RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM


Download
“RUBAIYAT”
by OMAR KHAYYAM in ebook
First Edition
I.
 Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
 Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
   And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
 The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light.
II.
 Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky
 I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
   “Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
 Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.”
III.
 And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
 The Tavern shouted—”Open then the Door.
   You know how little while we have to stay,
 And, once departed, may return no more.”
IV.
 Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
 The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
   Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
 Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
V.
 Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
 And Jamshyd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where no one knows;
   But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.
VI.
 And David’s Lips are lock’t; but in divine
 High piping Pelevi, with “Wine!  Wine!  Wine!
   Red Wine!”—the Nightingale cries to the Rose
 That yellow Cheek of hers to’incarnadine.
VII.
 Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
 The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
   The Bird of Time has but a little way
 To fly—and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.
VIII.
 And look—a thousand Blossoms with the Day
 Woke—and a thousand scatter’d into Clay:
   And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
 Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.
IX.
 But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
 Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot:
   Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
 Or Hatim Tai cry Supper—heed them not.
X.
 With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
 That just divides the desert from the sown,
   Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
 And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.
XI.
 Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
 A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou
   Beside me singing in the Wilderness—
 And Wilderness is Paradise enow.
XII.
 “How sweet is mortal Sovranty!”—think some:
 Others—”How blest the Paradise to come!”
   Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;
 Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!
XIII.
 Look to the Rose that blows about us—”Lo,
 Laughing,” she says, “into the World I blow:
   At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
 Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.”
XIV.
 The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
 Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon,
   Like Snow upon the Desert’s dusty Face
 Lighting a little Hour or two—is gone.
XV.
 And those who husbanded the Golden Grain,
 And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain,
   Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn’d
 As, buried once, Men want dug up again.
XVI.
 Think, in this batter’d Caravanserai
 Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,
   How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
 Abode his Hour or two, and went his way.
XVII.
 They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
 The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
   And Bahram, that great Hunter—the Wild Ass
 Stamps o’er his Head, and he lies fast asleep.
XVIII.
 I sometimes think that never blows so red
 The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
   That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
 Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.
XIX.
 And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
 Fledges the River’s Lip on which we lean—
   Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
 From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!
XX.
 Ah! my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
 TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears-
   To-morrow?—Why, To-morrow I may be
 Myself with Yesterday’s Sev’n Thousand Years.
XXI.
 Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best
 That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
   Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
 And one by one crept silently to Rest.
XXII.
 And we, that now make merry in the Room
 They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,
   Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
 Descend, ourselves to make a Couch—for whom?
XXIII.
 Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
 Before we too into the Dust Descend;
   Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
 Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and—sans End!
XXIV.
 Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
 And those that after a TO-MORROW stare,
   A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
 “Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.”
XXV.
 Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss’d
 Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
   Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
 Are scatter’d, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.
XXVI.
 Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
 To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;
   One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
 The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
XXVII.
 Myself when young did eagerly frequent
 Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
   About it and about: but evermore
 Came out by the same Door as in I went.
XXVIII.
 With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
 And with my own hand labour’d it to grow:
   And this was all the Harvest that I reap’d—
 “I came like Water, and like Wind I go.”
XXIX.
 Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
 Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:
   And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
 I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
XXX.
 What, without asking, hither hurried whence?
 And, without asking, whither hurried hence!
   Another and another Cup to drown
 The Memory of this Impertinence!
XXXI.
 Up from Earth’s Centre through the seventh Gate
 I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
   And many Knots unravel’d by the Road;
 But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.
XXXII.
 There was a Door to which I found no Key:
 There was a Veil past which I could not see:
   Some little Talk awhile of ME and THEE
 There seemed—and then no more of THEE and ME.
XXXIII.
 Then to the rolling Heav’n itself I cried,
 Asking, “What Lamp had Destiny to guide
   Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?”
 And—”A blind understanding!” Heav’n replied.
XXXIV.
 Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn
 My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn:
   And Lip to Lip it murmur’d—”While you live,
 Drink!—for once dead you never shall return.”
XXXV.
 I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
 Articulation answer’d, once did live,
   And merry-make; and the cold Lip I kiss’d
 How many Kisses might it take—and give.
XXXVI.
 For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,
 I watch’d the Potter thumping his wet Clay:
   And with its all obliterated Tongue
 It murmur’d—”Gently, Brother, gently, pray!”
XXXVII.
 Ah, fill the Cup:—what boots it to repeat
 How Time is slipping underneath our Feet:
   Unborn TO-MORROW and dead YESTERDAY,
 Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet!
XXXVIII.
 One Moment in Annihilation’s Waste,
 One moment, of the Well of Life to taste—
   The Stars are setting, and the Caravan
 Starts for the dawn of Nothing—Oh, make haste!
XXXIX.
 How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit
 Of This and That endeavour and dispute?
   Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
 Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
XL.
 You know, my Friends, how long since in my House
 For a new Marriage I did make Carouse:
   Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
 And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.
XLI.
 For “IS” and “IS-NOT” though with Rule and Line,
 And, “UP-AND-DOWN” without, I could define,
   I yet in all I only cared to know,
 Was never deep in anything but—Wine.
XLII.
 And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
 Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape,
   Bearing a vessel on his Shoulder; and
 He bid me taste of it; and ’twas—the Grape!
XLIII.
 The Grape that can with Logic absolute
 The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
   The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice
 Life’s leaden Metal into Gold transmute.
XLIV.
 The mighty Mahmud, the victorious Lord,
 That all the misbelieving and black Horde
   Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
 Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword.
XLV.
 But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
 The Quarrel of the Universe let be:
   And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,
 Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.
XLVI.
 For in and out, above, about, below,
 ‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
   Play’d in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
 Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
XLVII.
 And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
 End in the Nothing all Things end in—Yes-
   Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
 Thou shalt be—Nothing—Thou shalt not be less.
XLVIII.
 While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
 With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink:
   And when the Angel with his darker Draught
 Draws up to thee—take that, and do not shrink.
XLVIX.
 ‘Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
 Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
   Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
 And one by one back in the Closet lays.
L.
 The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes,
 But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes;
   And He that toss’d Thee down into the Field,
 He knows about it all—HE knows—HE knows!
LI.
 The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
 Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
   Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
 Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
LII.
 And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
 Whereunder crawling coop’t we live and die,
   Lift not thy hands to IT for help—for It
 Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
LIII.
 With Earth’s first Clay They did the Last Man’s knead,
 And then of the Last Harvest sow’d the Seed:
   Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote
 What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
LIV.
 I tell Thee this—When, starting from the Goal,
 Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal
   Of Heav’n Parwin and Mushtari they flung,
 In my predestin’d Plot of Dust and Soul
LV.
 The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about
 It clings my Being—let the Sufi flout;
   Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key,
 That shall unlock the Door he howls without.
LVI.
 And this I know: whether the one True Light,
 Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite,
   One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught
 Better than in the Temple lost outright.
LVII.
 Oh Thou who didst with Pitfall and with Gin
 Beset the Road I was to wander in,
   Thou wilt not with Predestination round
 Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?
LVIII.
 Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
 And who with Eden didst devise the Snake;
   For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
 Is blacken’d, Man’s Forgiveness give—and take!
 KUZA—NAMA. (“Book of Pots”)
LIX.
 Listen again.  One Evening at the Close
 Of Ramazan, ere the better Moon arose,
   In that old Potter’s Shop I stood alone
 With the clay Population round in Rows.
LX.
 And strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot
 Some could articulate, while others not:
   And suddenly one more impatient cried—
 “Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?”
LXI.
 Then said another—”Surely not in vain
 My substance from the common Earth was ta’en,
   That He who subtly wrought me into Shape
 Should stamp me back to common Earth again.”
LXII.
 Another said—”Why, ne’er a peevish Boy
 Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;
   Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love
 And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy!”
LXIII.
 None answer’d this; but after Silence spake
 A Vessel of a more ungainly Make:
   “They sneer at me for leaning all awry;
 What? did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”
LXIV.
 Said one—”Folks of a surly Tapster tell,
 And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell;
   They talk of some strict Testing of us—Pish!
 He’s a Good Fellow, and ’twill all be well.”
LXV.
 Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,
 “My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry:
   But, fill me with the old familiar Juice,
 Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!”
LXVI.
 So, while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking:
   And then they jogg’d each other, “Brother! Brother!
 Hark to the Porter’s Shoulder-knot a-creaking!”

ከሞተች ቆይቷል

ሰዓሊና ገጣሚ ገብረ ክርስቶስ ደስታ
ከሞተች ቆይቷል ብዙ ዘመን ሁኑዋል
ብዙ ነበር ጊዜው
ግን ፎቶግራፍዋ፣ ደብዳቤዋም አለ
በጠጉርዋ ጉንጉን የጠቀለለችው
ምን ቀነ ቀጠሮ ነው
ቀን የቀን ጎደሎ
የቀን ጥቁር መጥፎ፡፡
አበባ ሄድኩ ይዤ …
እዚያ አበባ አልጠፋም
በመቃብርዋ ውስጥ አበባ ተኝትዋል፡፡
ስሜቴ ፈነዳ ገላዬን በተነው
ነፍሴን ነቀነቃት
እንባዬ ወረደ ጉንጬን አረጠበው
ለተረሳ ነገር እንዴት ያለቅሳል ሰው!
ለተረሳ ነገር
ምን ጊዜው ቢረዝም . . .
የዚህ አለም ጣጣ እንከራተተኝ
የዚህ አለም ስቃይ እየቦረቦረኝ –
ሲጨንቀኝ ሰውነት
ፍቅሬ ይሁን ያንቺ የኔ መቃብር ቤት፤
ህይወት ነዶ ጠፍቶ ሞት ፍሙን ሲያዳፍን
ያን ጨለማ ጉዋዳ ሄጄ ልተኛበት፡፡
ይመስላል ዘላለም . . .
የወደዱትን ሰው አይን አይኑን ሲያዩት
ይመስላል ዘላለም  አድማስ አልፎ አድማስ፤
ምጥቀት አልፎ ምትቀት፣ ጠፈር አልፎ ጠፈር
ይመስላል ዘላለም ሰው ባካል የሚኖር፡፡
ድሮ አውቀዋለሁ፤
ተረድቼዋለሁ፤
ፀሃይ ጥቁር ስትሆን
ቀን ቀንን ሲያጠላው ሌት ሌትን ሲሸፍን
እረስቼው እንደሁ፡፡
እንዴት አንቺን ልርሳ፣
ነፍሴ አብሮዋት የሚኖር የፍቅርሽ ጠባሳ፡፡
“ፍቅርሽና ፍቅሬ የተወሳሰበው
አልበጠስ አለኛ ብስበው ባስበው”
ማ ነበር . . . ማ ነበር
          ማ ነበር እንደዚህ፣ ብሎ የገጠመው?
ይመስላል ዘላለም
አንች የኔ እመቤት ብት ነበረ
አንት የኔ ጌታ
          አንት የኔ ጌታ ብላን የነበረ
አንች የኔ እመቤት
          ይመስላል ዘላለም፡፡
እንባዬ ወረደ፣ ልቤን አቃጠለው፣ ልቤ ተነደለ
የሰቀቀን እሳት አካሌን ሲያነደው ደደሜ ገነፈለ
የደም ጥቁር እንባ . . .
የቅጠል ጭማቂ አረንገዋዴ አበባ
የደም ጥቁር እንባ
ቆዳ የሚያሳርር መንፈስ የሚያባባ
አልቀሰቅሳትም . . .
ቡዳ እስዋን አይበላም ቢስ እስዋን አያይም
አልቀሰቅሳትም በነፍሴ ተጉዤ እጠይቃታለሁ
አለ ትዝታዋ . . .
          አውቃለሁ – አውቃለሁ
በመቃብርዋ ውስጥ ጢስ እንጨት ይጨሳል
ከርቤ፣ ብርጉድ እጣን . . .
መቃብርዋ ሽቱ
ጣፋጭ መአዛ አለው አጥንትዋ ታቦቱ
መቅደስ ቤተልሄም ቅኔ ማህሌትዋ . . .
እጣኑ ይጨሳል ይታጠናል ቤትዋ
ፍቅሬ ሙሽራዬ
እሜቤቴ ፍቅሬ ያለም አለኝታዬ
አቴትዋ ይታጠናል
ልዩ መአዛ አላት ማግሪፍ፣ ዲዩር፣ ሻናል
በመቃብርዋ ውስጥ ጢስ እንጨት ይጨሳል
በመቃብርዋ ውስት አበባ ተኝትዋል
ፍቅሬ ፍቅሬ  ፍቅሬ፣ ፍቅሬ ፍቅሬ ፍቅሬ
እመቤቴ ፍቅሬ እመቤቴ ፍቅሬ፣ እመቤቴ ፍቅሬ እመቤቴ ፍቅሬ
ፍቅሬ ሙሽራዬ ፍቅሬ ሙሽራዬ፣ ፍቅሬ ሙሽራዬ ፍቅሬ ሙሽራዬ
ፍቅሬ አለኝታዬ ፍቅሬ አለኝታዬ፣ ፍቅሬ አለኝታዬ ፍቅሬ አለኝታዬ
እንባዬ ወረደ . . .
እንግዲህ ይበቃል – ይቅር፣ ይቅር – ይብቃ
በድካም – መድከም፣ ባሳብ ሃሳብ አለ
ባዘን . . .ባዘን . . .ሃዘን . . .

ሰዓሊና ገጣሚ ገብረ ክርስቶስ ደስታ

Gebre Kristos Desta poem’s in pdf


  • Profile image of Modern Art Museum/Ethiopia
Gebre Kristos Desta
(1932-1981) who was a pioneer painter, poet and teacher. Gebre Kristos studied painting and graphic at the Academy of Art in Cologne, West Germany (1957-1961) and graduated at the top of his class.
Gebre Kristos Desta, the painter-poet, was born in 1932 in the Eastern province of Harar, Ethiopia, to father Aleka Desta, a clergyman, and mother W/o Atsede Mariam Wondimagegnehu. Gebre Kristos completed his elementary education in his native town of Harar, and attended the Haile Sellassie 1st School and General Wingate High School. He later joined the Science Department at Haile Sellassie 1st University, presently Addis Ababa University. Gebre Kristos did not pursue a career in his field of study, scientific agriculture, but instead studied art and painted in his spare time. Initially, Gebre Kristos was a self-taught artist, but in his sophomore year, his predilection for art won out, and Gebre Kristos abandoned his studies in hope of becoming a full-time artist.

In between his departure from the University and his trip abroad to study art, Gebre Kristos worked for several agencies, including the Soil Analysis Chemical Laboratory of the Imperial Ethiopian Government, the Highway Authority and as an engineer at the Alidade and Map Charting section in the Geological Department of the State Bank of Ethiopia. Gebre Kristos, renowned as an instructor, held his first teaching position during this time, at the Sebestie Negasie Elementary School, as an English, Geography, and General Science Teacher. He was also appointed to illustrate children’s books as a U.S. Government sponsored program then known as the Point of Four Education. Soon after this first professional job as an artist, Gebre Kristos left for Germany to study art in depth.
From 1957 to 1961, Gebre Kristos studied at the Werschule fur Bildende Kunste und Gestaltung, an art school in Cologne, West Germany. It was here that he was introduced to abstract art, which would later become his specialty. Gebre Kristos excelled at his studies, majoring in painting and graphic art, and graduated at the top of his class. After graduation from the Cologne Art Academy, he held his first one-man exhibition at the Gallery Kuppeers, Cologne. The show encompassed a year of work, and made an extensive six month tour of Western Europe.
In 1962, Gebre Kristos returned back to his homeland Ethiopia to introduce his newly adopted style,
abstract expressionism. Confronted with the task of introducing modern art into a culture still steeped in traditionalism, Gebre Kristos faced censure and criticism for abandoning more conventional Ethiopian styles. He held a one-man show at the School of Fine Arts in 1963, where he was also a member of the faculty, and his work was received with mixed reactions. Despite frequent sharp criticism, Gebre Kristos continued to teach and create art at the School of Fine Art in Addis Ababa. In 1965, he won the Haile Sellassie 1st prize Trust Award in Fine Arts, and gained official recognition for his innovative and unique style. The poetry of Gebre Kristos is as equally brilliant and original as his visual work. As one of Ethiopia’s first contemporary poets, his written pieces present a different approach from that of the customary fare, and break from tradition by introducing new rhythms.

Gebre Kristos served in an ambassadorial capacity, heading cultural delegates and traveling with touring Ethiopian art exhibitions in Europe. In 1967, he was invited to exhibit his works and to visit important museums, artistic, and historic sites in the USSR. The same year he visited and exhibited his works in Czechoslovakia by invitation of that government. The Federal Republic of West Germany invited Gebre Kristos to present his pieces in 1970, as well as visit and endorse important places of art interest. Also in 1970, on the occasion of expanding higher education in Ethiopia, Gebre Kristos was invited by the National University Alumni Association to exhibit his works at the Kennedy Memorial Library in Addis Ababa. The following year, the Ministry of Education and Fine Arts awarded Gebre Kristos “Best Teacher of the Year” in recognition with his superb efforts as an instructor at the University of Addis Ababa. A similar honor was bestowed upon him by the office of Addis Ababa schools in 1972.

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