Midnight descended, impenetrable darkness,
Only the river glistens from the moon,
And across the river, an unknown tribe,
Lighting its fires, makes noise.
Tomorrow we shall meet and find out
Who is to become the ruler of these parts;
They are helped by a black stone,
We — by a golden cross on the chest.
Again I pass around knolls and pits,
Here will be the things, the mules, over there;
In this woebegone land of Sidama,
Not even the trees grow.
It’s joyful to think: if we shall prevail,
And we have prevailed over many
The serpentine yellow road will again
Lead from hill to hill.
If tomorrow the waves of the Uebi
Shall submerge my last breath into their roar,
Then, dead, I will see how in the ashen sky
The black god battles with the god of fire.
BY NIKOLAY GUMILEV
THE ETHIOPIAN HERALD SATURDAY 9 DECEMBER 2023
