martes, 12 de junio de 2012

Sida koorta yucub

 
 
 
 

Sida koorta yucub oo la suray,
koramo buubaal ah.
Ama geel kareeb ah oo nirgaha,
laga kaxeeynayo.
Ama beelo kaynaan ah,
kor u hayaamaya.
Ama ceel karkaarada jabshayiyo,
wabi karaar dhaafay.
Ama habar kuraygaydii wadnaha,
lagaga kaw siiyay.
Ama kaal danley qaybsadtayiyo,
kur iyo dhaal yaabis ah.
Shini kaaluf gashay ama sidii,
korankoro oomi ah.
Xalay kololo’aygii ma ladin,
kaamil reerahuyee.

Kunbulka iyo ardaagii miyaa,
laygu kaliyeeyay.
Wixii laygu kuunyeeyay miyaa,
igu karaamoobay.
Kunbiskii miyaa layga qubay,
kolayo ii buuxay.
Maantana kataantii miyaa,
layga kala qaaday.
Kob abaar ah oo dhaxe miyaa,
koore ila meeray.
Kub miyaan ka jabay biixi aan,
kabayo loo haynin.  

(Raage Ugaas Warfaa)

***

Like the “yucub” wood bell tied,
to gelded camels that are running away.
Or like suckling she-camels being separated,
from their calves.
Or like communities setting off,
for a high desert trek.
Or like well which has broken its sides;
or river which has overflowed its banks.
Or like an old woman dropped dead,
because of her son.
Or like a self-centred people sharing,
Impressive but dull meal in a large wooden spoon.
Or like bees turned sterile;
or boiled whole grain for food.
Last night my lamenting roar did not better,
sound and safe the family. 

Have I been left bereft
of shelter and companionship?
Has the envy of others been
miraculously fulfilled?
Have the fried meat reserves been thrown,
for lean times and were so plentiful for me?
Have the bedbugs today been found,
on my clothing?
Have I been borne on a saddle,
to a distant and desolate place?
Have I broken my shin,
a bone which cannot be mended?


Somali Poetry, An Introduction:
B. W. Andrzejewski and I. M. Lewis.
The Clarendon Press, 1964.


 
 
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