የክርስቶስ መዐዛ The Aroma of Christ

My Flower    ' የኔ አበባ '   By Solomon Belete Haile I heard the birds singing, Robin, chickadee, and starling, In the fresh air of spring, It was my flower's time too, To flourish and blossom, Under the blue, bright sky's bosom, Beneath a cheerful moon, A canopy of bright stars, Swelling surf and new grass. Alas, my flower, She'd been through rough weather, The wind, the chill, the stormy winter, Leave her alone, come on gardener, It is spring, let her prosper. The gardener planted a flower, Atop Ethiopia's highland 'Wollo meder', Adorned her with beauty and glamour, Nurtured her with aroma and savor. She was gentle, yet strong, Swayed in the wind but never broke, Blossomed for a spell but not for long. Her tall stemmed stature, Flamingo akin splendor, Transplanted up yonder, By the swift action of the gardener. Oh, benevolent, caring gardener, What have you done with my flower? If