EBON MAID FROM GONDAR

Oh ebon maid from Gondar, how I long to see thy face
To surrender into thy arms this haggard, dusky frame
But here am I in the west wearing a frown; absolute stranger to life's grace
Were it not so, even if, I wouldn't trade you not even for fame.
The vices of the evil west have reduced me terribly,
Flattened my abdomen and chest and soiled my integrity.
No more am I remorseful; nay I am not conscience-pricked
Subsequent to the performance of deeds evil and lewd, lowdown tricks.
A slave to envy I am too,
Not only to callous whites;
My much have subjected to hatred's few ;
Malice's depth has swallowed my heights.
Thy sisters are here too- not by their self will
Dying to be embossomed by some comely Ras.
She whose garbs were satin is now swaddled in drill
Ere was happy, now ,as sad as
The morning which awake and seest not the sun
Her companion with whom she spends the day
So unhappy her days would certain run
Until melancholy wears her away.
Thy sisters are crying "Oh labour where is your reward;
And do thee not offer sweet repose?
Giving birth to thieves and to bastards
And living a life her superior chose
A life inconsistent with her culture, nature and will
But a life her superior chose
Those whose conscience cannot thaw what their ego chill
Treacherous to both friends and foes.
The glory of my locks and skin has now turn my shame
How hum'rous if fish wear aught but scales and fins
Non-sensical sounds have replaced my honored name
Distinguishing my kin from me, me from my kin.
Now toiling from sunrise to sunset much to my own hurt
Then unsatisfied, unrewarded must lie me to rest;
Unlike in Ethiopia when we acted with little effort
And work together with sanguine zest.
Oh ye domiciled in pleasure's land
Let thy assistance be forthcoming,
For fingers cannot touch without the aid of hand
Nor lips smile when face is frowning.
If there is naught you can do to be of instrument,
There is aught you can do to be of comfort.
List with thy ears with good intent
This when done would be of much worth.
Climb ye to the highest mountain peak
Defying fear, gravity and nature's law
When thy task is accomplished and at the pinnacle meet
Consider 18:3 of Isaiah.
With sister's love and brother's care shout til ye can shout no more
Genuinely hoping thy bereft part would hear
Shout AIZOH, AIZOH, AIZOH
And this when done would be of sufficient cheer.