I believe you have piddling grudges,

Against who but I the culprit,

for the senseless beating you suffered,

bruises everywhere and tissues in bulge,

As evidence you can lodge,

And there is no way one can fudge.

You still have scars all over,

proving constant buttering and punching;

you did in fact incur.

Bashing you in vain against the bushes

In search of nests,

That of a guinea fowl, a rabbit or of a partridge.

By a reckless child, running wild

That is typical of his age

However, I too have grudges

Against you, for lending your hands

To the old man - that is dad,

To club my thighs and bottom

For every little mischief I put my hands on.

But all that was in the past,

When I was a reckless brat.

Our ties, albeit, good or bad

Generations it has now last.

To be here today and witness that enduring relations,

You and I have had,

I am extremely glad.

Do you remember?

Oh Yes, I am sure you do, when I turned adult,

And responsibility unduly fell on my part,

Leaving behind all the things I cherish and had to depart,

To lead a desolate life that was full of threats.

Then, from the highly treasured belongings of my dad,

There was one item, with no permission I decided to take.

I remember carrying my belongings on my back

Be it daylight or time taken dark.

Covering vast expanses of plane,

Steep mountains with poking the sky,

When I had to walk and climb,

incredible to believe,

More often than not,

They gave way

And swayed

These things you call - the limbs.

However, sway or give way,

Strides needed to be matched

With other comrades in the march.

If one was not to run out of luck

By enemy bullets struck-

Those days time was really taken dark.

However, no matter how hard one tried,

Burdened with weight of one’s own physique

And that of the logistic

Carried round the waist and the back,

One could not live without.

Oh yes, the limbs used to give way

And began to sway.

Then your assistance was invariably sought

To serve as an added limb to carry the weight,

Which you did with no regret

To my then extreme delight.

When the sky turned pitch dark

And for obvious reasons a torch light was forbidden.

Unless one was to risk,

For being attacked,

As a sitting duck

but one must continue to walk.

It was then the role you assumed,

That of the eyes and the limbs

But most of all, one incident,

Indelibly etched in my mind,

I shall never forget.

When our unit was mauled by a bomb

By the Italian fascists

From hitherto unknown carbuncle that flies

High above the skies,

Then, and still today, regarded as the residence of the Almighty God high.

The gun I had flew away from my hand and got catapulted

To a distance I could not managed to reach,

Without my safety being breached.

If I were to slither or writhe,

Or raised my head a bit,

I would have been struck by an enemy bullet.

If I were to stay unmoved and stayed buried

All the same, I would have been killed.

So in desperate move, lying still, I stretched to the limit.

If you do not mind me saying so,

I turned you my friend upside down,

And managed, in the end to hook up the gun

And brought it back to my hand.

Then having it close to my chest

I began to inflict the surrounding with God forsaken blaze

That way thereafter I managed to deter

The enemy from advancing nearer.
In fact some of them began to retreat shouting the names of their mothers.

That vital service you gave,

I should say you were as brave

As any human was brave,

And I swear to God, I shall always remember

As long as I live.

Now I am old, too old,

My eye sight had almost failed,

The bones are brittle and frail,

My almighty back has collapsed double-fold

And without your support,

I could neither have risen from the bed.

Nor could I get out from my abode.

Everything has come and gone.

Including the freedom I bitterly fought and won,

And the country I was born,

Is disfigured by strife, drought and famine,

You are the only friend,

I have known as young and old,

Who is still around.

Believe you me, without your help at hand,

I do not imagine any move I possibly can.

Thank you my dear CANE.

May you live long,

As a tribute to the forest in to which you were born,

And proudly you felt, rightly so, you belonged

Which is now for good and ever gone.

Copyright Haileselassie Girmay

27/10/97