Mahlet Ogbe Habte: Funeral songs
(Øretelefoner eller godt lydanlegg anbefales.)
What they are telling us?
That we should not cry, it is not the right thing to do
But I just want to say good morning my child,
and make sure you are doing well,
tell me it is not true that I am not going to see you again, you have preferred death rather than me
Do you hear me, I am talking to you all;
Oh my children I do not know in which way,
but I am trying to understand
Do you want to testify that you come from the clay. humble in essence,
but you seem to forget that I too am of the same sort; I will go back to the earth;
This is a sign of our misery and finitude.
Please do not leave me alone until then.
My heart is sick I'm so weak ...
I cannot make it alone
Oh! my child, you are alone now,
let me predict you which Kalashnikov
is meant to hit you,
so you would be able to avoid death...
or I might be too late
My dear brother: I'm talking to you
My beloved one a gift from my mother
I just want to make sure that whenever you are Keep up in a good shape
My handsome brother don't follow
the one they died before you,
preserve your self from being ruined
It is so harmful I cannot handle this
Oh! I curse my misery
Your big eyes, big... big like the sea
Your big eyes, big... big like the sky
They are resting in peace
But my dear, what has encounter to you
I miss your playful mood
Why you are rushing
This time is not your turn
You decide to be absent
forever... forever... forever
My mind is traveling to visit you;
I want to chat with you a bit.
My young boy, my flourishing/blossoming flower;
I do not want to live without you;
Why is this world so angry and mad; treating me so badly.
I do not know to whom I can talk and cry about you.
If you miss the way home,
I will send you someone to show the way where.
I am waiting in vain for you. This is the only thing I can do;
I clean, make it comfortable and cozy in our house;
You are not coming home, you are not coming home,
but I will wait and wait, for the rest of my life....
Kunstjournalen B-post nr. 1_12: Lyd