War and Peace in Contemporary Eritrean Poetry

Appendix: A Selection of Poems from Who Needs a Story? Contemporary Eritrean Poetry in Tigrinya, Tigre and Arabic

139 Appendix A Selection of Poems from Who Needs a Story? Contemporary Eritrean Poetry in Tigrinya, Tigre and Arabic 140 Mohammed Osman Kajerai Wind and Fire Victims claim my country as their mother, Free of humiliation and betrayal And sacred, yet broken and bleeding – They greet her with poems, love and flowers. *** As my blood fertilizes the land, A mirage of hope gleams on the horizon Bearing martyrs, martyrs and more martyrs, But no greater glory or victory. Understand? *** No more prison, chains, beatings and bleeding Thanks to the gun giving me the courage To fight with blazing fire and raging wind And win, embracing the dawn to fight again. *** You thugs, invaders, mercenaries – I’ll never stop revenging my land. Struggle and determination Define my being Eritrean. *** The front fighting for my liberation Pulses through the veins and heart of my song Unfurling the flag for my martyr’s body To rest and fly in glory forever. *** We unfurl on a hopeless horizon. We protect you amidst dark days and darker nights. Your glory in battle and your children In the struggle and revolution, we provide. 141 142 Mussa Mohammed Adem The Invincible Say what you like, but step over the line And he feels his first scar burning again. Smell the smoke. He has that true killer look Because he always sees war – it’s ugly, And dirges play like soundtracks in his head – Shimber, Hebo, Wazafin – constantly Making him think, ‘Encircle, attack, attack . . . ‘. He sees enemies like sorghum bending And breaking, their heads spilling out all red. Never missing the target, his bullets Fall like rain hitting the lake, and it floods As in the days of Noah, only with blood. Fast and taking too many forms at once, He’s blinding and leaves no time to react – Like July lightning, thunder, downpours and Fifty days straight of sandstorms uprooting Boulders like arrows winging from the bow Of the hero mercilessly slashing The tendons, crushing and splashing the marrow. Like rainy season torrents pounding down From the highlands with more storms behind them, He comes to fight, saying ‘Try and stop me’. He crosses any desert, sets a trap And waits for the strong to choke on their blood. Crocodiles run away from his jaws. He lives according to his law. 143 144 Wisdom lets a lion or tiger sleep. Seeing him, you better stay far away. Fakes and fanatics may think they’re heroes And pluck a whisker but then, catching fire, Caught in the eyes where they wanted to play, They have nowhere to hide and no more to say. He throws the trees and rocks out of his path And grabs his weapons – nobody’s laughing. Fields planted thick with mines, impossible Desert sand and heat, crocodiles swarming Rivers and gaping valleys in his way Reveal him close and watching overhead Before he leaves them choked with too many dead. The third offensive explodes with sirens And unrolls black clouds like giant bee hives Disgorging armies fleeing for their lives, Out of control, surrounding him like knives And helplessly knocked away in the swing Of his crushing sword – his entire flesh Bloody and broken with wounds and lead as the field Where he stands unafraid, letting no one Flee as he fulfills the ancient lines, Playing and singing them, too: history Repeating itself, prophecy come true And the clear reality to witness: Welcome to free Nakfa, Setit and Belessa. Like thunder and lightning, it surprises Enemy invaders and ululates Continually to all who can hear 145 146 No matter how much bombing and terror Our country and its people have to bear. Since the invincible guards our borders, No more battles like Adwa can take place here, Though he has seen plenty dig their own graves Thinking it could if only they were brave Enough to face him and die, and they did, And not until we see the Red Sea dry Will the verdict be any different. Adi Hakin, Adi Mirug, Deda, Bada, the deserts and wadi of Dahlak And the Gash, tumbling from the highlands Down where the lions drink after their prey, Also testify to the gift of life Or death overflowing and in his hands – In the end...