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.
