“Freedom breeze, makes me feel fine;
blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind!”1
Before Greece, you were the home of scholars.
Before Rome, you were an empire.
Before last week, you were slaves.
The birth of your society is shrouded in Time’s burqua.
The birth of your revolution now reveals
the best-kept secret of the Sphinx:
it’s all about the people.
History is read from monuments of rulers and kings;
their grandiose self-glorifications dot every desert.
But this hasn’t been the first time, has it? – that Egypt’s
laborers have laid down their work, their very lives,
and stood up for change.
“Go down, Moses, go down to Egypt-Land;
go tell old Pharoah: let my people go!”2
The people of Tahrir Square are telling
Pharoah to go, with all his autocrats and aristocrats;
and leave Egypt to them, poor men and women;
o, the Sphinx is talking now!
The pyramid scheme is crumbling,
the lack of princely substance is seen by all.
The dance of the seven veils has been danced,
the veils cast aside, and stale promises with it.
Ripples spread in sand
as in water; dunes
shift slowly, then all at once.
Mariann G. Wizard / The Rag Blog
18 February 2011
1 apologies to Seals & Crofts, “Summer Breeze”
2 traditional Negro spiritual
The Rag Blog / Posted February 22, 2011