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Brooklyn Beverly Sep 2018
Here I am.
Life's grip firmly planted on my neck
But with every gasp for air I feel more alive then What it means to actually do so
Living is such a funny word
Only those who see its antagonist really know Its bounds but bound are those who are blind to the reap
Those glasses of rose colored ignorance
Shattered forevermore
The struggle reflected on the pale pink shards...
Innocence lost.
A world once seen somehow lost in translation. I can't help but grieve for what is gone but does Its absence make me stronger?
Only time's ticking clock will transcribe what is.
I bent again unto the ground
And I heard the quiet sound
Which the grasses make when they
Come up laughing from the clay
--We are the voice of God!—they said
Thereupon I bent my head
Down again I might see
If they truly spoke to me.
But, around me, everywhere,
Grass and tree and mountain where
Thundering in mighty glee,
--We are the voice of deity!—
And I leapt from where I lay:
I danced upon the laughing clay፡
And, to the rock that sang beside,
--We are the voice of God!—I cried.


የእግዚአብሔር ድምፅ

ዳግም ወደ ምድር እንዳጎነበስኩ
ጥርት ያለ ድምፅ አደመጥኩ
ቄጤማዎች የሚስደምጡት ፈንድቀው
ብቅ እዳሉ ሸክላ አፈሩን ሰንጥቀው
“የእግዚአብሔር ድምፅ ነን አድምጡን!”
እዛው ጭንቅላቴን ዝቅ አድርጌ
ዓይኔን ሰደድኩ ወደ ግርጌ
በርግጥ እኔን አያናገሩ እንደው
ማወቅ ፈልጌ፣
ግን በዙሪያዬ በየስፍራወ
ሳሩ ዛፉና ተራራው
በደስታ እንደ መብረቅ
ነበር የሚያስተጋባው
‹‹የአምላክ ድምፅ ነን
አድምጡን!››
ጋድም ካልኩበት
በሐሴት የሚፍለቀለቅ መሬት
ዘልዬ በፍጥነት
ቀጥ ብዬ ቆምኩ
እንደዛ እዳደረግኩ
በተመስጦ እያሸበሸብኩ
ከጎኔ ለሚዘምረው ኮረብታ
እኔም በደስታ
‹‹የእግዚብሔር ድምፅ ነን!›› አልኩታ፡፡
(ጄምስ ስቲፈንስ)
Both living and none living things pay respect to God.Birds cheer up mountains orchestrate symphony to God.

— The End —