THE FLOOD FESTIVAL
Let the fontonfrom deafen our ears once again
The gong-gong, seprewa, berekete, atenteben, and ahyewa hymn along.
The rattles and double-bells give finishing touches, percolating rhythmically.
Its the annual FLOOD FESTIVAL again.
The sky has awoken from it's slumber by the tease of sounds surging quickly.
Clouds sit and give a stern jealous look from above.
Warm flushes surge through the spines of the soil.
What hostility is to come that the thirsty earth frets about.
The sky unable to tame the angry clouds let lose.
Rain droplets heavier than lead
Showers of deadly punches from heaven sent across the face of the earth.
Like beads broken from a string, they dribble
Like Greeks in the land of Troy, they invade
Just like a Hindu movie, well rehearsed
Roofings screech as darting cats and dogs seem not to halt the hot exchange of blows
Helplessly, their voices bury in cold and hoarse.
The earth saturated
It drinks no more of what is left.
Stream of waters like a bull at the gate
Nothing spared, Nothing left alone.
Incredulously, gutters have sold their right to passing liquid watse to trash.
No path to follow, No shelter for a second. Endless drops stream from the open skies.
Drops turn to streams
Streams into Oceans
Like a bull in a China shop
Concrete walls cripple down
Routes erase from sight.
Fertile lands cloth in water bath
Asem a ba o, Asem a ba
Earth has thrown in the towel.
We've sipped wine today from some spell cup.
We've dug our own graves
Yet our caskets are not ready.
Now, frustration has stolen our brains.
Our rip cages can contain no more of our swollen hearts.
Our pride has gushed out of our mouths.
Our land has been clothed in waters.
If days file out
Everything returns to normal.
All hands on deck, if not.
I shall see your face shrink in tears
Your eyeballs bulged out
And your teeth gnashed
once again in our next FLOOD FESTIVAL.