The Manchester Review

Three Ethiopian Contemporary Women Poets

ALEMTSEHAY WODAJO

The soul has a message

From the time she arrives, until she leaves her borrowed body,
the soul has a message, a role to perform and the means to perform it.

She creates the things she likes, but also works for others
and plans for the future, spinning comforts like a thread.

The soul has a message, she is entrusted with an assignment.
There are those who are dead even while they live,
who have erred and disappointed the soul,
who have carried her without benefit and paid no attention to her,
who have passed away despised, who let their soul pass away despising her.

To the likes of these, she should not have been given.
To those who, carrying the soul, have no soul.

 

The hero does not recognise death

A man who digs up the tomb and bursts open the coffin,
who demolishes our burdens with his heroic deeds,
a man who is untouched by lies and theft and fraud,
a hero, the best of men, who punishes death,
who keeps obsequiousness at a distance and offers his life
as a sacrifice, knowing it will never come back,
who chooses to die rather than live with disgrace,
who invokes his country saying “in the name of the Father”,
who overcomes death, frightens death, who protects
the borders of his country and makes his people proud,
a hero of life, whom death cannot catch,
who is never far from his people and their achievements,
a hero of the pen, a warrior with words, a ladder of growth
and doorkeeper of unity, a candle of research, pencil-point
of creativity, the undefeated hero whose work shines,
whose mane is the honey of his tongue, present in our mouths,
a hero of every task, a role model who is always with us,
even when his body is in the earth, like a tribute,
he has not died, he is still unchallenged, his words are
unwavering, his faith is firm, he laughs at danger,
knowing he is alive, that death finds his a bitter taste,
that time will never enclose him in its walls.
He is a hero who kills death by painting it with his brush,
who lives through his art, whose creativity is a victory
for everyone, who even when he dies in the cold,
without convenience or comfort, has given us all comfort,
whose name does not die with him, behold, he is here! he is there!
his story will not be erased, his deeds created him, made him
a hero, one whose weakness was tested in the fire, whose heart
advises his heart to rebel, who is not a slave of his belly,
not a sucker for success, who sticks simply to his plans
and lives for now, for justice, defending what is right,
not to be admired or to acquire honours, not to think
only about himself, because a man like him does not die,
time may steal his body but it cannot dull the hero’s history.

 

Time

I slip into the pantry to fetch her baby bottle,
stay there a moment, checking the milk’s temperature.

When I return, she is looking round the living room.
“Where have you put the car keys, Mum?” she asks

and when I look into her eyes,
I have a bone to pick with time.

(translated by the poet together with Getatchew Haile)

 

ALEMTSEHAY WODAJO is a poet, actor and song-writer living in Maryand, USA. She played Portia and Ophelia in the National Theatre in Addis Ababa and has written lyrics for many famous Ethiopian singers, including Tilahun Gessesse, Mohamud Ahmed and Aster Aweke. She founded the Taytu Center in Washington to promote African culture through poetry nights, drama and art productions. Her poetry collections are Marafiya Yattach Heywot (A life that has no resting place), and Yemata Injera (Evening Bread). Many of her poems are modelled on traditional war songs in which women sing in order to inspire soldiers preparing for battle.

 

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