Here walked a lion the landscape knew,
Morning tears the mane,
Pearls of dew on wounded paw,
Diamond in the train.
Exiled, lion hearted,
darkened balcony stalls,
Images of homeland lost
step out through empty halls.
Hold to the gold and the southern path,
With red on every thorn ,
where treasure lies with the lion
and the dreams of the unicorn.
Green for those low hills lost from the deck,
gold for the endless sun,
Red for the blood that pulses us back,
To the throne ,
to the land and the gun.
- Next poetry evening at nearby Fairfield House, 2 Kelston Road (former House of H.IM) is first Sunday of May, arranged by Tekla Selassie. All welcome.
“Ethiopia Kelston” image by Matt Prosser.
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