This the place of recovery
This where she began
Amharic text reminds us,
As we live beneath the sun,
She was a warrior,
An Amazon having fun.

When sky was black as gold,
She was dragged across the sunless sea
By men without a soul:
Her stories and narrations,
Her lives as yet untold

Lost in the stinking slave ship hold.

From the slave ships and from factories
Amidst this freezing cold
We hear the triump of wizened men:
Men who've never see the sun;
Nor wonders to behold.

Gobeen men these counters,
These misers of the heart,
Their fractured souls’ inheritance
Is to live their lives apart
From this Abyssinian maid
They swore was in her grave.

Such long and false forgetting,
Of moons and seas and sunne,
Is lifted by the light of night:
In the heart where songs begun
Of damsels rare and golden
Who sing beneath the sun.

As Coleridge once foretold

This journey has begun. .