Unjust Praise
In the beginning
The spirit moving
Upon the face of the waters
And in the breaking waves
Tasted salt
And I see fields of it
Drying on the shore.
We let in shallow lakes of sea
To evaporate,
And the salt
Accumulates along their edge
Thanks to the sunlight:
Crystal white,
Enough for everyone,
Harvested and sold
In every shop and on the roads:
Salt! –
In proper measure
Bringing out the taste,
The flavor and spirit
Of our food, hot or cold.
Why should pepper get
So much admiration
When salt does all the work?
About this poem
This poem, representing Eritrea, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012.
