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Poem

Zewdu Milikit

MY SILLY STOMACH

So I can feel how big he is,
he starves my fingers,
leans my toes 
and fills my chest with feathers.
He even shrinks my skull
into a little gourd and boasts
he is by far the best
of stomachs in the world,
stands there pleased as punch
to be a silly paunch.

ሞኝ ሆዴ

ሞኝ ሆዴ

ከሆዴ ስፋት ጋር ሳነጸፅራቸው
ቀጥነዋል እጆቼ፣
ከስተዋል እግሮቼ፣
ትከሻዬ ቀሎ ተጣቧል ደረቴ፣
ቅል ሆናብኛለች ትንሽ ጭንቅላቴ፡፡
ይዬ ሞኙ ሆዴ
ሁሉን አችል ብሎ
ሰፋና ሰፋና፣
አቋሜን አጠፋው ቦርጭ ሆኖ ወጣና፡፡
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MY SILLY STOMACH

So I can feel how big he is,
he starves my fingers,
leans my toes 
and fills my chest with feathers.
He even shrinks my skull
into a little gourd and boasts
he is by far the best
of stomachs in the world,
stands there pleased as punch
to be a silly paunch.

MY SILLY STOMACH

So I can feel how big he is,
he starves my fingers,
leans my toes 
and fills my chest with feathers.
He even shrinks my skull
into a little gourd and boasts
he is by far the best
of stomachs in the world,
stands there pleased as punch
to be a silly paunch.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère