The Ethiopian Anthology

Sometime before the outbreak of the Ethiopian Revolution in 1974, during my fourth year in Addis Ababa, I was approached by a British publisher to edit an illustrated "Ethiopian Anthology", along the lines of the book "Nigeria, The Land, Its Art, Its People, An Anthology" (Studio Vista and The Felix Gluck Press).

I did a lot of research, and invited leading Ethiopian writers and artists to contribute their work.
By the time I'd made my editorial selection, identified the illustrations and written the introduction, the revolution happened and the publishers in London came to the conclusion that the market no longer existed for such a book. So all the material went back into the drawer.

I've been looking at it again recently, and was reminded of the importance and extraordinary quality of some of the writing submitted by Ethiopian writers and artists like Tsegaye Gabre-Medhin and Gebre Kristos Desta, as well as of some of the traditional Ethiopian songs translated by Gherma Habte Selassie and others, eg Tigrinya and Afar songs. Has the time come to publish the anthology?

Gebre Kristos Desta Museum

From "To Painting"

Gebre Kristos Desta (tr. Solomon Deressa):

This journey has no end...

To go

Beyond the moon, beyond the stars, beyond the sky

Journey to the unknown to occupy the unoccupied...

To search, to bring out!

This journey has no end.

(Ethiopia Observer, Vol XI, No, 3)

Gebre Kristos Desta, Krar Player 
(Cover, Ethiopia Observer, vol IX, No. 4), 

This is where I am 

Tsegaye Gabre-Medhin

Extracts from a Tsegaye Gabre Medhin poem "Ours" (written 1961, published Ethiopia Observer, vol IX, No 1, 1965):

Highland of highlands

On your head

Wind blew

In your chest

Life fluttered

In your belly

Progress rotted

Under your feet

Peasants died-

Hail

Roof of mother Africa...

Ancient highland

With your feet

In the sea

Your head

In the clouds...

Tsegaye Gebre-Medhin - "Abren Zim Inebel/አብረን ዝም እንበል"

Poet Laureate Tsegaye Gebremedhin (Ethiopia Poem )

Tsegaye Gebre-Medhin (The Guardian, Obituary)

Tigrigna Song

Germay Habte Sellassie (translator)

Lament for Sebagadis

(literal translation by Rev. Sam Gobat, 1835, 1850)

Alas! Sebagadis, the friend of all,

Has fallen at Daga Shaha, by the hand of Oubeshat!

Alas! Sebagadis, the pillar of the poor,

Has fallen at Daga Shaha, weltering in his blood.

The people of this country, will they find it a good thing

To eat ears of corn which have grown in the blood?

Who will remember St. Michael of November?

Mariam, with five thousand Gallas, has killed him:

For the half of a loaf, for a cup of wine,

The friend of the Christians has fallen at Daga Shaha!

Famine: 1889

(1889 original lost; translated from Amharic-Russian-Italian-English, published in an article by Dr. R. Pankhurst, 1969)

Not with a strong ox or a sharp plough

Do we till our fields today;

We work our land with our naked hand

Imploring the grace of an angry God

As we bend to our barren toil.

The sun arose and climbed in the sky

And we dug the soil in vain.

Old men, green youths and even young girls;

But our labour was fruitless still.

They sowed the field, not with golden grain

For dear friends and hated enemies were lying there;

And instead of young plants or the undulating plain

Graves were dug.

Neguse

(traditional song tr. Ghermay Habte Sellassie with William Prouty) 

O Neguse, O Neguse,

Saturday and Sunday with your Bible,

Monday and Tuesday at war;

Your bravery beyond expression,

Your knife with two sharp edges,

Your sword covered with silver.

O Neguse, son of Ilfu,

Is there anyone who has been with Neguse?

"Yes, here I am who was with him,

His wound at his forehead."

O, you are a liar,

You have not been there,

Your bandolier is full,

You have not been fighting.


Afar Song

We are moving to other pastures,
We are moving to other pastures.

Is there any place left where we haven't lived?
Is there any place left where we haven't pastured our animals?

We are moving to other pastures,
We are moving to other pastures.

The only place we haven't lived is the east,
The only place we haven't been is in the grave.

We are moving to other pastures,
We are moving to other pastures.

Oh east we do not want you,
Oh grave we do not want you.

We are moving to other pastures,
We are moving to other pastures.

(Journal of Ethiopian Studies, vol 9, no 2, July 1971)


Related Song, The Nomad, Jim Potts


The Cross
(Excerpts from a mystical religious poem, written on parchment and rolled into amulets by the debteras)

On the Cross alone I do depend;
It is my fortress and my strength.
Beauty of the Cross.
Cross, light of the blind.
Cross above all things.
Cross destroying the enemy.
Cross spear and shield of the Church.
Cross the Martyr's crown.
Cross refuge of the poor.
Cross succour of the afflicted.
Cross the virtue of the just.
Cross strength and power of the weary.
Cross making the dumb speak.
Cross ear of the deaf and faith of the saints.
Cross guide to the blind.
Cross wood of life,
Cross wood of salvation.
Cross calm of the sea.
Cross bread of the hungry,
Cross fountain of the thirsty,
Cross clothing of the naked.
Cross the rod that struck Satan.
Allelujah, Cross my faith.
Allelujah, Cross my light.
Cross my hope;
Cross my succour;
Cross my grace.
The Cross was made and the high was brought low
And the low was raised up.
Cross the Alpha and the Omega,
The First and the Last.

Ethiopian Poet Solomon Deressa Dies at 80

From Ethiopia Observer