Beat the drum,

call out the boys to come,

and the girls too this time a round.

Let them parade

and perform

their ritual dance

to the tune

of the musical band,

till the entire nation

is gripped in trance.

And walks smoothly to hell

as if that was a chosen place to dwell.

Declare war!!!!!!

The vilest of all horror.

Say, declare war!!!!

The violent horror of them all.

Men do not learn

from their past errors

And once more!!

we are again at war.

Once more!

the mortars shall roar.

Deafening the ears

And beating hearts seized with terror

And once again!

jingoistic carving shall be entertained

momentum we shall gain

war shall be the game

to bring down

the vilest of all men

who is in command

of a nation of warrior tribal bands

which has refused to bow

to our rightful demands.

Oh yes, War is a game

the powerful and the rich play

with the lives of the weak and tame.

Shout the slogans!!!!!

war shall began,

to salvage

the public image

of a leader held in hostage.

Shout the slogan!!

War shall began

to salvage

an economy in wreckage.

Shout the slogan!!!!!!!!

war shall began

to salvage

a nation’s image

whose inflated ego that has been lately damaged.

War! War!!!!!!!

Bring war for dinner,

war for breakfast,

cried the fascist,

whose grip of power fading so fast..

War! Early morning war

before the children go far;

declare a dictator,

to help his rule run a bit longer.

War!!!! cried the liberals,

if they don’t,

election is round the corner,

wordily battles are already

bitterly fought

and they are gonna lose the vote.

But the boys,

sweet boys,

family joys,

who wore the uniform

shall live no more

War!! vociferously cried

the general,

wielding his arms,

flexing his muscles,

and clenching his fists,

only to hide behind

deep in a bunker

and compel

the boys

to jump into fiery hell,

to burn alive and

their body to swell.

At the end of the day the general

would manage to excel

and gets decorated with medals -

medals - gold, diamond refine and fine -

while the boys flew in

wrapped in flags inside coffins.

Out the bodies are dragged,

Still others wrapped in body bags,

itself wrapped in decorative flags.

Alas, weep no more

Those are the fortunate,

the unfortunate,

in number difficult to count,

are left behind to rot

right on the spots

struck by bullets.

Alas, thou shall not cry women

Yours were the fortunate,

dead and for good gone

It is the disfigured, crippled, and maim

who carry the relics and memory of war

for long time in the distant future.

until they are no more.

And the burden of war.

Will be borne

by the families of those he did fall

to the vilest horror of them all.

Men do not learn

from the past errors.

And once more

the mortars shall began ….

to roar.

And in earnest the nations

once again will be at war.

Copyright Haileselassie Girmay

5/2/98