By Fikre Gebrekidan Reda, PhD
Tigrai Online Feb. 15, 2014
Praise be to thee month of the year,
Date of the month praise be to thee,
Time of inspiration, herald to dignity,
Precursor to peace, wellbeing and liberty.
Where the resolute few, the men of valor,
Yes. Came together and trek on together,
On the road they know would be ‘long and bitter’,
To preface history with their red color.
Yes. But a most precious red color:
That dribbles not from a pen,
But that which gushes out from the vein.
To face off and defy Goliath the ‘mighty’,
And restore peace, justice and human dignity.
They sped to the wilderness with just a sling,
And start from thence their pebbles to fling.
Emboldening date, month of lekatit,
Glory be to thee and to thy men of merit,
As the wise people often say it,
In their mouth and in their rhyme,
Everything lies in the womb of time.
So it was deep in your womb,
That hope of recovery began to sprout and bloom,
And the days of bemoaning and tyranny started to doom.
Those trekking legs and trickling blood,
Have brought healing and renaissance to hand,
Which were far off, faint and immensely blurred,
Like a noon star twinkling in the far up end.
So praise be to thee, day of liberty,
Month of commemoration, time of solemnity.
Moment of remembrance, date of reflection,
To all those ‘keyahtn tselemtn’ martyred in action.
Eternal memory to our martyrs!