And I shall certainly Be Free

 

Oh! Well-wishers don't you worry,

Despite the ordeal I know I shall be free.

Every time I take a fainted nap.

Under the cover of a pitch dark night ,

In a foxhole squatted and crammed,

Loins hard pressed and elbowed,

Or at times laying on my stomach,

With my pointer-finger ,

and the thumb locked onto a trigger,

In a makeshift trench,

I ask myself the same question:

How did I fare today,

And what is my fate tomorrow?

Today was ineffably hell,

Bullets and bombshells,

Like a diluvial hail,

Falling over my head.

And the Putrid sulphur,

Wherever I turned,

Invariably polluting the air,

Leaving a vitriolic taste at the back of the tongue,

And challenging the lungs to inhale.

Likewise, I felt nauseated at the awful sight,

Of comrades mangled and bestrew,

All over the site.

Nonetheless, despite it all the ordeal,

I did it, I am still alive and,

As it can possibly be, well.

If I could say the same thing tomorrow,

I should sigh and be relieved,

And the crusty dirt besmirched face of mine,

Ought to glow;

For I surely know,

One of these dawns,

I shall certainly would be free and walk head high,

Whilst the warmongers get drowned,

In a noisome blood bath of their own.

Copyright Haileselassie Girmay

8/2/99