[The Slitherers!]
Tësh-lok-lâki-wotch
by Dr. Fikré Tolossa *
by Dr. Fikré Tolossa *
=== ~~ === ~~ ===
Engulfed by Terror's raging flames,
As we slither and glibly side-wind,
No blaze or flicker ever touches us.
We pay no mind to revolution's lightening,
While senseless chaos scatters
And displaces the innocent
We continue to slumber in our own silence.
We are camped inside the flames,
And we know how to feint, how to deceive
Until the burning blaze is cooled.
And when the soot breaks down
And the sound and the fury subside;
When the sky and the air are clear and safe,
We raise our heads and announce our presence:
"Here we are! We're tested. We are ready to serve!"
And all the while we care not a whit
whether we are summoned or not.
The fools, and the guileless
They've fallen by the wayside
Or else have gone to nothingness
Or ended up in exile
Or slaughtered under Terror's rule.
The few survivors still clamor: "Conscience, oh Conscience!"
They beg and cry out: "Justice! Truth! Liberty!"
Yet they loath power, they find it too dirty,
They'd rather watch from the sidelines.
But we're smart and quick on our feet
And we climb and take hold of the reins
Paying lip service to absence of chains.
Lying in wait for our victims
We're scheming and plotting
The best ways to stir up the naif
Dooming them to death or misery.
No sympathy or conscience have we
As we step heavily o'er the blood-stained ground.
We monitor society's vital signs,
We take its temperature, its pulse.
We herd and prod the fools to the fire,
We use them as torches
To illumine our paths and freshen our lives.
The guileless are our shield.
And sitting astride our horse of power,
We ride fast as the wind.
The virtuous and the truthful are trampled as dust.
We usurp the voice of the masses
When it damn well suits us;
But we know when to shout out in our own
And when to come out of our caves.
We will prattle till our neck veins stick out
We'll talk non-stop till our mouths are frothy.
Talk and talk is all we do all day
And we only know how to naysay!
Woe to the whistle-blowers
Woe to honest public servants
Should they attempt to uncover us
Should we be bravely denounced.
We've got the temperament, skill, and speed
To deal with these finger-pointers.
They won't know what hit them.
We have ... special ... merchandising talents
We know how to mine public outrage
How to exploit the masses' sentiments.
It is our occupation ... squelching the weak
But we take smart care with the strong.
While havoc-n-melee rules mankind,
We make sure to stay spared.
But even more, we stay focused
Whoever or whatever is in power.
We will more than survive
We'll prosper and flourish.
The heroic farmer will slave and toil at his farm
But at harvest time ... will he then profit?
Nay, not he. It is we who prosper
Without fear, without batting an eye.
All comforts of life are given to us
The world is indeed at our feet!
No place here for the virtuous,
For he who burns for "truth, justice, and liberty!"
As we slither and glibly side-wind,
No blaze or flicker ever touches us.
We pay no mind to revolution's lightening,
While senseless chaos scatters
And displaces the innocent
We continue to slumber in our own silence.
We are camped inside the flames,
And we know how to feint, how to deceive
Until the burning blaze is cooled.
And when the soot breaks down
And the sound and the fury subside;
When the sky and the air are clear and safe,
We raise our heads and announce our presence:
"Here we are! We're tested. We are ready to serve!"
And all the while we care not a whit
whether we are summoned or not.
The fools, and the guileless
They've fallen by the wayside
Or else have gone to nothingness
Or ended up in exile
Or slaughtered under Terror's rule.
The few survivors still clamor: "Conscience, oh Conscience!"
They beg and cry out: "Justice! Truth! Liberty!"
Yet they loath power, they find it too dirty,
They'd rather watch from the sidelines.
But we're smart and quick on our feet
And we climb and take hold of the reins
Paying lip service to absence of chains.
Lying in wait for our victims
We're scheming and plotting
The best ways to stir up the naif
Dooming them to death or misery.
No sympathy or conscience have we
As we step heavily o'er the blood-stained ground.
We monitor society's vital signs,
We take its temperature, its pulse.
We herd and prod the fools to the fire,
We use them as torches
To illumine our paths and freshen our lives.
The guileless are our shield.
And sitting astride our horse of power,
We ride fast as the wind.
The virtuous and the truthful are trampled as dust.
We usurp the voice of the masses
When it damn well suits us;
But we know when to shout out in our own
And when to come out of our caves.
We will prattle till our neck veins stick out
We'll talk non-stop till our mouths are frothy.
Talk and talk is all we do all day
And we only know how to naysay!
Woe to the whistle-blowers
Woe to honest public servants
Should they attempt to uncover us
Should we be bravely denounced.
We've got the temperament, skill, and speed
To deal with these finger-pointers.
They won't know what hit them.
We have ... special ... merchandising talents
We know how to mine public outrage
How to exploit the masses' sentiments.
It is our occupation ... squelching the weak
But we take smart care with the strong.
While havoc-n-melee rules mankind,
We make sure to stay spared.
But even more, we stay focused
Whoever or whatever is in power.
We will more than survive
We'll prosper and flourish.
The heroic farmer will slave and toil at his farm
But at harvest time ... will he then profit?
Nay, not he. It is we who prosper
Without fear, without batting an eye.
All comforts of life are given to us
The world is indeed at our feet!
No place here for the virtuous,
For he who burns for "truth, justice, and liberty!"
_____________________________________
* Free verse translation by Hénock Gugsa
Afterword by HG -
The above poem by Dr. Tolossa is obviously of great significance and meaning to the people of Ethiopia ... especially those who directly suffered fifteen plus years of misery under Mengistu and his minions. What struck me keenly was the intensity of the cynicism, the irony, and the sociopathic glee of the ruling class. Yes, they were there even under communism, and they are still around us even here in the land of the free!
It is a bitter and dismally universal reality:
Negativity and selfishness are the bane of humanity!
Thank you, Dr. Tolossa, for forever opening our eyes and showing us some of humanity's unpleasant natures. Through your poem, you've given voice and immortality to our tragedy. And, in my opinion, you have done it as effectively as the old masters, Orwell and Solzhenitsyn.
Afterword by HG -
The above poem by Dr. Tolossa is obviously of great significance and meaning to the people of Ethiopia ... especially those who directly suffered fifteen plus years of misery under Mengistu and his minions. What struck me keenly was the intensity of the cynicism, the irony, and the sociopathic glee of the ruling class. Yes, they were there even under communism, and they are still around us even here in the land of the free!
It is a bitter and dismally universal reality:
Negativity and selfishness are the bane of humanity!
Thank you, Dr. Tolossa, for forever opening our eyes and showing us some of humanity's unpleasant natures. Through your poem, you've given voice and immortality to our tragedy. And, in my opinion, you have done it as effectively as the old masters, Orwell and Solzhenitsyn.
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