A Vagabond's Road
A lonesome vagabond
Whistled away through his life-
Through autumn, summer and the cruel cold.
He lived a life, so kind, so benign,
Myriad pathways he could've chosen.
Pathways adorned with petals of roses,
But a bed of roses would've given him no thrill
Through summer fever and winter chills.
Today he lies in moth-devoured drapes,
At the edge of the very road that gra...
Tuesday 20th October 2020 2:02 pm
The Road not taken/By Robert Frost/Translation into Amharic By Alem Hailu G/Kristosየተተወው መንገድ
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that...
Saturday 7th December 2019 12:01 pm
Rue
Could You Find Reason
With What I’ve Done,
Even If I Hide The Truth?
Would You Believe
All I’ve Become
Is Everything I Wanted To?
A Couple Times
We’ve Grown-Up
And You’re The Only One I Wanted Too.
Forever Young
Is Holding
On To You.
Sunday 26th May 2019 3:22 am
Arrive Alive
Road crashes are every minute
Here and there, in every point
More than a million killed a year
And speed is death, no doubt
“Drive Safely” is only choice
ٍSafety belt, has no "price"
Come back safe for the family
We live "once", not twice
Road is not real excuse
But the behavior is a main cause
For crashes all over that world
No more anger .. no abuse
Friday 5th April 2019 9:08 pm
Round route
In cloaks of words I wrap myself against the weather
Storms I conjured up as punishment.
Hands full of swords thrusting up out of the earth
The round route I take. Gazelles return again
To the brink, to drink. And me? To think.
So I skirt mans burning fire, hyena lurking
Laughing in the dark. A great arc I make
Like a dim sun at the end of his leash
Scribing the day across the sky...
Friday 27th October 2017 8:00 pm
Waiting
For Robert Watson Not so much walking, as rocking side to side, each step an inch at most, like a wind-up toy. It's a long hallway, but it's early yet. Boiled vegetable puree and chicken broth again. Everything hurts. Most of all, the children. Sleepless nights, unawakened days. Brethren will come when it's too late. there's nothing left but to linger. The road ahead is grim, thi...
Monday 23rd January 2017 9:09 pm
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