I know three words of magicThat tell a beautiful truth. He stared me in my eyesAwaiting these words, three…To flow from the wells of my soulAnd spring through my lips, quivering.He summoned the waves of soundTo carry them,Unto his self-indulgent ears…And drown them, in his unquestioning heart.I know of three magic wordsThat make a humble truth.They are but simple, albeit unknown.“I don’t know”Dust in the wind but I amWhat rights have I to know?Aren’t I a passenger in the dark,A traveler of light?What do I sincerely…know?I am nothing into something.I am something into nothing.But I know just one thing.And they are three magical words.Humble and truthful.I know. That I don’t know.He…knew of three enchanting wordsThat made a handsome lie.He longed to hear them, from meThese heavy words… boorishly abused.But I am a lone travelerI pay no heed to false knowledgeNor have I time for ephemeral gratification.All I could tell him was“I don’t know”But he valued his lie over my truthAnd gasped at my last two wordsWhich were neither “love” nor “you”.
BY ALEM KIDANE
THE ETHIOPIAN HERALD THURSDAY 7 APRIL 2022
