He sang to me his music of silence.
His canvases empty…
a great painter was he.
He wept devoid of tears,
and he laughed without teeth…
his books contained no lines
nor did his poetries.
He never said the words
but I know he loved me…
one who truly feels love,
discerns it quietly.
BY ALEM KIDANE
THE ETHIOPIAN HERALD FRIDAY 26 JANUARY 2024
