Pride is in the Ethiop's Ear

[siger]

Wanton wind,
Silent Sage,
keeper of secrets,
Tell us a tale.

"I watched from the heights of the Rwenzori,
 a sombre scene of bondage and misery,
 the day awe turned to lust,
 the season plenty gave birth to thirst."

These are the words
of the pale foreigner
when on the golden dust
he laid eyes on the Arkhan.

"See how he shines,
 this dark-skinned lord,
 how the light surrounds him,
 that sits on a stool of gold,
 see how he lends beauty,
 to the jewel in his lobe,
 Tis pride that sits in the Ethiop's Ear."

These are the thoughts
of the pale pretender
who learnt to covet
the Arkhan's kingly manner.

"I would cross a sea,
 to know the ways of a king,
 I would sell my brother's eye,
 to know the meaning of pride,
 and here, on a golden stool,
 sits a man I can make a fool,
 For what i want sits in the Ethiop's Ear."

These are the counsels
of the pale-necked vulture
who in his quest for darkness
sold off his culture.

"Let us teach him to shun his skin,
 him that shines like bronze,
 give him a taste of bondage,
 him who walks with the gods,
 let us teach him of a God with a chosen people,
 him who believes in equality for all,
 and we'll wrest the thing that sits in his Ear."

These are the deeds
of the Defilers of Thebes
who made chaos of order
in their quest for power.

"We have made slaves of kings,
 poured our seed in the lifeless wombs of queens,
 we have taught him to forget,
 him who held the cloth of the ages,
 the stool we stole,
 and plucked the stone from his lobe,
 yet still pride sits in the Ethiop's Ear."

And Lust turned to rage,
rage to hate and rage again,
when in the sour keep,
the song of slaves is all they reap'd,
smiles and laughter, instead of fear,
True pride is in the Ethiop's Ear.